Spring is really here. The cocoon of snow that seemed to wrap around the farm for months has finally melted. Without the cover of whiteness, each time I walk outside, I’m reminded of the hundreds of projects that need attention. It’s exciting. The start of year two. Exciting, with a hue of nerve-rackingness. In many ways, year two feels the same as last year. Seeding trays in the basement on a cool February evening, enjoying a good podcast. Putting together a planting schedule, checking off to-dos, picking up all our annual supplies, and daily trips to the greenhouse to monitor and adjust the little seedlings.
But in other ways, this year feels completely different. Whereas last year felt like the season came at us with a raging force, this season Bryan and I were able to prepare and get on the same page about what we wanted to accomplish. I think the most exciting part of year two is how much more intentional we are able to be, something that we get to share with all the new faces in our Farm Share or at Market. So far, onions and leeks (newcomers for this year!) have already been seeded (a few weeks ahead of last year), as have beets (they’re looking kind of spindly, we’ll see how it goes), spinach, herbs, lettuce, and lots of flowers. Compost gets delivered next week, so we’re on track to get peas and greens in the ground very soon.
We’ve been working on cleaning up the fields, prepping the ground, working on our walkie-talkie code names (you can catch Bryan at code name “Rusty Nail”), and trying to assemble some sort of organization. As we visit different areas on the farm, we’re still able to see the results from last year. For example, Lake Lauren (aka the muddy, flooded area in the southeastern portion of low land) has disappeared. The cover crop from last season seems to have provided a better environment for water and erosion. On a sad note, some of the results aren’t always positive. The overwintered produce still is a favorite to the deer in the area. This mix of emotions—excitement and nerves; positive and not-so-positive crop results—will always be a constant. So sometimes, to get us centered, we figured the best thing to do for our farm is… nothing. Just have a cup of coffee, enjoy the morning by acting silly with the walkie talkies, and chat about how grateful we are to be growing stuff.