Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Earth is Like a Child That Knows Poems

Today was the day I laid the last of the seedlings to rest in the compost pile, returning them to earth. I'm a little sad I was unsuccessful this year, but at least they are returning to the earth where they can rest and prepare to nourish next year's garden as compost.

This is our first real spring here, our first year to experience all the seasons here at the SemiFarm. This is been an excellent year, with all the snow and rain, to learn where low spots are in the yard, where the run off goes, and what areas are suitable for gardens and chickens. The garden is in a naturally higher spot. The compost, which is at the edge of the woods, is too, but, because of the rain and thaw, is surrounded by a small moat.

Luckily, I'm pretty creative and have some awesome rubber boots Kiddo and Hubs gave me for the holidays. Hence, the little bridge of sticks. (Hey, it works.)
Even amongst the sadness and dreariness of this rainy weather and saying goodbye to my first attempts at seedlings, not all is doom and gloom here at the SemiFarm. The trees are starting to come around and wake up. I think these are Ash trees, which make a little triangle in my yard behind my barn. Off to the right of this area is a little high spot, the future home of the chicken coop for the girls. Though I'm still waiting to hear from the local hatchery about a writing gig, freelancing has been good to me already this year. I've been lucky enough to write for both a magazine and a company's blog and also won second prize in a regional writing contest for poetry. Since I have managed to scrounge up some extra funds with my words, my father and I are going to build a 4 x 8 shed as soon as he is available. It will either be a chicken coop so the hens can move in or a garden shed if a can strike a barter for a coop. Either way, the girls are going to be able to move in soon, and I am so excited to meet them and have them here with us.

It's exciting to get to be writing so much and to see the farm waking up, and this quote from Rainer Maria Rilke seemed so fitting I had to use part of it for the title of this post:
Even the strawberries are getting ready for the coming year, and are pushing new leaves up through the soggy soil. They remind me of little shamrocks all tucked in upon themselves, unfolding to welcome the sun. I'm looking forward to welcoming it myself as the temperatures warm up later this week. Since the clock have sprung forward,if I'm lucky, I'll be home from work in time to enjoy some sunshine later this week when it returns. If I do, I'll be out in the yard, getting dirty and looking for poems.


  1. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. About half our seedlings die. We just start over. And hope the strong seedlings that make it to transplant don't get dug up by the squirrels! It is heartbreaking though--especially when it's something you thought would grow like crazy cakes (I have had a terrible time getting a particular NATIVE plant to grow from seed out here!)

  2. No worries. It is disappointing, but I think a lot of what I tried to start is best direct sown anyways. What I really need to cultivate is patience as I wait for the weather to warm up.