Hot humid days and warm evenings; the delights of summer are manifest in shades of deepening green, with dewey mornings that give way to oppressive days that make us long for cool, crisp nights of fall delight. Not yet. Summer passes slowly with light changing from bright yellow to softer amber as days begin to slowly shrink and evening lengthens. Across the county, hay is being cut. Corn stalks stand tall and dry and soy beans have begun to change from green to gold.
This month, after the grasses went to seed, the trails through the woods and around the fields were bush hogged. Each year Brendan opens areas and lanes, giving us access through thick brambles to parts of the farm that are soon overgrown if left alone. The lanes provide a pleasant path for walking or running, and create habitat for grazing wildlife including deer and turkey (Also, when Gus comes home, we will have a couple of miles of trails to trot and explore).
By August, the apples are splashed with patches of sooty blotch and have swelled with tantalizing hints of sweet inside. This year our young trees are yielding a small crop that will ripen next month. The harvest will stretch into October – one or two apples from many of the trees although a couple may give up half a bushel, with their first harvest. We’re pleased at the modest yield. Our own apples – ugly and sweet.
The converted tobacco barn provides a cool retreat from summer’s heat, where Helen can build cutting boards and repair old chairs. This month the shop also serves as a new home for Ketch, where he can adjust to life on the farm, while he exchanges scritches and pets for a rent of lizards, mice, and bugs.
The garden… Lessons learned from the Spring 2021 garden:
Few pursuits are more frustrating than a garden that languishes or suffers from pests, especially one that spirals out of control under the misguided hand of a neophyte. Guilty on both parts, I can appreciate this year’s healthy dose of humility- a result of biting off a project too large but nevertheless enjoying the trip.
- Plant like with like. The haphazard planting of seeds and plants may work in a small patio and yield a charmed and quaint appearance of bounty. Spread over 3,500 square feet it creates a cacophony of sizes and maturity dates that provide an ideal habitat for every known variety of weed and annoys your husband without end.
- Don’t rush the weather. This year, a long cool spring put many plants into stasis where they stayed for weeks or months- not growing, not dying. We replaced some and left others. The new plants quickly outgrew the older neighbors. Plants sometimes languish and it’s hard to admit it but sometimes it’s better to start over. If you have space, keep the first ones and watch to see if they catch up. Sometimes they do (and sometimes they don’t).
- Keep working the dirt. Green ground is the worst but it will keep getting better with time as long as you don’t give up. This year the plants were stunted and we think it may be the hard packed underlying clay. On the list for next month are soil samples along with a plan to deeply plow and punch holes in the underlying hardpan.
- Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Don’t wait for someone else to eat the perfectly ripe cherry tomato. Try fresh corn straight off the stalk, pluck a baby okra, and sneak a fresh pea. Nothing tastes better. Period.
- Have fun. Don’t argue about the location of plants or row spaces. You have all the time in the world to try something new if this year doesn’t pan out.
- Stop and smell the roses. Really, just take a deep breath and breathe out. Oh and zinnias are the best!
