Foxtail and Flax

How fleeting the Summer in my neck of the woods can be. Winter tends to cling to us for dear life until suddenly it’s gone, and life bursts through the ground, desperate to get going and complete its life cycle before Winter sinks its teeth into us again. Thanks to that, our farm season in North Central Wisconsin is more of a sprint than the marathon our Southern growers experience. And it’s extra important to appreciate the short season.

We start planting in the greenhouse in March; the first plants to get planted in our hoophouses are in April. The very first plants planted in the field are the ever-hardy onions, which go out in late April or early May depending on when the weather permits us to get into the field to make beds and such. We have such a tight turn around to make sure that plants get into ground in time to reproduce before the frosts return and shortening daylight makes it hard for the leaves to photosynthesize.

But the change of the seasons outside is such a joy to witness. I never expected it to be one of the things I love most about my job. And I didn’t realize how much I didn’t notice or didn’t appreciate before I started working outside every day.

There’s all the firsts of the year of course: the first intrepid plants pushing up through the soil, the first buds, the first plant planted outside.

There’s the first swim my dog takes in the Spring. The first time I tip my head back and feel how strong the Spring sun is starting to feel. The first strawberry picked.

Then there’s the really obvious things. The flowers. The color, the distractions, the smells, the sound of the industrious bees. Watching butterflies flit from flower to flower. Watching plants grow, flower, ripen and become my nourishing meal. They are a simple joy and a gift that should not be overlooked.

There’s the insects, reptiles and many legged crawling friends that tend to go unappreciated.

There’s the things that will always remind me that this is Summer and meant to be savored.

And the world spins on, tilting us further from the sun and Summer must transition to beautiful Fall. The nights cool, then the days cool, then the light weakens. The leaves put on a brilliant color show back dropped by cloudless, crystal blue skies; as if the world knows that we need one last punch of color before the world turns to browns and whites, grays and evergreens.

But its important to remember that Winter is not a time when everything dies. It’s a time of deep rest. While the world may look too still and sound too quiet, its quite alive enjoying the labor put in over the short growing season and biding its time until those first warm rays of Spring sunlight.