Ahhhh! Spring!
While the world is still holding its breath on lockdowns and where all this insanity might be heading, nature shows me that some things will Just. Not. Change.
Little things.
Mightier things.
As the asparagus powerfully pokes through the hard dirt; as the comfrey, the nettles, the crap apple trees, the currant bushes show their first, innocent, curious and colorful new shades of green, I cannot help but admire the sanity of this simple cycle. Spring – a miracle that I would not want to live without and that the South just HAS to be missing or possibly doesn’t even KNOW that it is. How sad...
Those first few sunny days after mud season, I usually can’t stay in the house, because nature calls me out, even if I still need to wear a heavy coat, because the winds are still chilling to the bone. After all the snow is gone and the mud has somewhat dried up, I usually start with the rake and free all of my first-pokers – the plants that poke through early and unintimidatedly laugh at another certain frost, another layer of snow or some more icy North winds: my tulips, hyacinths, strawberry beds, comfrey patches, asparagus patch – those hardy warriors and harbingers of warmth, the start of the new season, infancy, youth and life. They want to be freed to breathe the fresh air and freed to see first rays of the sun. It’s almost like they are calling and urging me to help them get the old and the death off of them. And I answer. Passionately, hungry and eager to help, I rake, weed, take dead leaves out of the raspberries, schlepp it all to the burn pile and make room for new growth. I have to laugh at the exuberance of my puppy – Putz – who is there down and dirty in the raspberries with me, chewing, dragging, barking with joy, “helping” me by pulling my jeans, chewing on my hair, attacking the rake. Buster peacefully enjoys the sun on his black fur, lying only a few yards away.
And while I think absolutely nothing, meditate winter away one dead stick at a time, random thoughts enter my head: THIS year, I’ll incorporate nettles in my teas; – and comfrey, too! With my hemp drying system, drying these medicinal plants will be a walk in the park! My Amish neighbor has told me once that comfrey is not only good for wound treatment, but it is also good in teas. I plan to spend a rainy, indoors-y day – later this month and after the plants have reached adolescence – composing new teas, researching new ways to heal, and strengthening the body and its natural immune system. Half-angry I think: If burdock is in any way beneficial, I will find a way for that pesky weed as well and get rich! A soft chuckle escapes me. What am I thinking? I’m rich already! Because you can’t eat money.
Like every year, I’m looking forward to the fruits, berries and vegetables of my labor. There’s no better flavor and spicing than one’s own sweat and care taken to grow. There’s no better comfort in knowing that when I put a dish on the table that most plant ingredients are grown on our own little farm and the meat not far from across the fence.
Spring is also always the time of the year that invites to let old thoughts go. Make peace with the past year(s), myself and those who hurt me – at least in my own heart. It’s not good to carry a grudge for long. The sun just started to shine again. Smile! It's a beautiful smile!
I’m starting to work up a sweat and take off my coat. Underneath my gardening glove, I can feel that the rake will leave a blister on the thin, sensitive skin between my thumb and my index finger. It will hurt, but I will put CBD cream on it. It will form a callus and the next time, I rake, shovel or sweep, my hand will be used to it. Spring hurts so good! – getting muscles unused all winter back in shape; clean, long fingernails broken off and dirty; eyes used to the months of darkness, blinded by the light...
Bending over and crawling through the strawberries now, I can feel the sun on my back. The flannel shirt comes off as I’m looking down on my wet, dirty pants around the knees and as I wonder whether I'll be able to remember to pick up all of the clothes that are lying around the yard like a treasure hunt. Ha! probably not!
I start planning my garden in my mind. I wonder whether I’m biting off more than I can chew with THIS year’s project. Rather than growing hemp, I will grow edibles only. No worries, I have hemp to continue to make all the CBD products I can make and all that you can use. I pause a moment and think about how this magnificent plant has enriched my life in the past two years, how it taught me, challenged me, guided me, surprised me, humbled me... I still only know a fraction of what this plant can do. But I simply have to take this a step further: am I able to grow our year’s supply of food? It had always been a vision of my husband and me ever since we moved here.
To have a hobby farm, where we raise our own food and vegetables.
In my head, I debate with myself, whether I should run the beds from East to West, like I had grown my hemp, or from North to South, in smaller sections. Irrigation would be easier, if I had the rows like I grew hemp. However, smaller sections also have their benefit – while it would be much more work to lay out the irrigation system itself – more corners for the water, more slowing down, more possible mishaps and accidents, squirting water every which way. I'll have to do a water pressure calculation as Jacob has taught me two years ago. (I have learned so much!) But I could maybe run my main pipe up perpendicular into each section and then have the smaller drip tape come off of those, like smaller blood vessels off main veins in a body. I like THAT idea – a LOT as a matter of fact. It will look like the divine branching waterways in leaves… Another small problem solved by LIFE!
Writing a mental note to myself, that I will have to make sketches and drawings on paper, then calculate, how much space my garden will take up, then think about which vegetable needs what type of soil, then coordinate natural, organic fertilizer to accommodate each individual section with vegetables that like similar conditions... Pooh! It’s already starting to overwhelm me…
I force myself to go back to thinking absolutely nothing...
For now, I'm enjoying the moment.
There’s hope.
There’s always hope.
Because there is always a new spring.
Because there is always the exuberance of young life.
Just don’t forget to LIVE it…
Bee Hempy,
Love and Peace,
Silvia
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