A Farm

At one time, the property here was all farm.  Animals and plants, tractors and barns, the whole nine.  Over the years the fields were reclaimed and the structures crumbled.  Twice in its history this land was planted as a nursery.  The evidence is everywhere in the trees in tidy rows and the holes, the never ending holes that will probably never be completely filled.  10 years ago the fields were cleared, roads and utilities were laid out, lots divided and prepared for green vacation homes.  Fortunately, the economic situation of the entire continent shifted and the lots were left fallow, the seedlings and shoots got their opportunity and they took it.

4 years ago a group of intrepid individuals walked these fields and had a vision.  Green fields, trails, music, camping and even a return to it's original purpose:  farming.  The fields are now mowed, trails built and building, music and campers come regularly, but the farm aspect is only just now starting to take shape on a windswept, rocky patch near the only home.  This farm is without name and as yet mostly without shape but it's mine.  I have a vision, a shovel and a compost heap.  Two 3 foot wide, 20 foot long beds carved out of the ancient river bed, clay soil, too much sun and wind, not enough water, no drainage...  the obstacles are substantial.   But a productive farm is not made in a day, no amount of soil amendments can transform a spot of earth overnight.  Sun, rain, soil and human input collaborate in the ongoing evolution of a cultivated patch.  Mine is only just beginning and it looks fairly lonesome out in the field, just a patch of broken up clay with too many weed seeds and not nearly enough bed depth...

So it begins, one man's mission to tame the grasses, herd the worms and feed his family.  Pray for rain.