... patience ...

we've been settlin in here for a while now... planted. firmly. two feet on the ground. 

i didn't grow up in the country. i grew up floating the world, living in mostly urban spaces or on military bases as a child. the country was where we would go, when stateside, to visit my grandparents ... farming was what my father's father did. so, it was an idylic space, a place to return to again and again... to long for when the months and sometimes years passed by, before returning to the cradle of abundance and freedom.

when i met my partner in a large metropolitan city, it never occurred to me that our adventure would land us here where the world is slowed to the rhythm of the weather, the sun and the moon, and the night stars are not hid by the ambient glow of civilization. more often than not, when the weather is clear, we can plot the bow of the milky way overhead.

what we are trying to do is actively engage the environment, learn new arts and revive old ones ... for surely that is what this adventure is. 

i look forward to sharing these bold and beautiful days with you on our quest to learn how to tend to the natural world without upsetting it's balance -in fact, to coax it into greater abundance!- while discovering its bountiful food sources that grow wild here. one of my concentrations is on the vast array of medicinal plants and their uses ... an ancient art that fell to the wayside which has seen a revival in recent years. 

outside of our first attempt at gardening, we have wildcrafted the abundant himalayan blackberries that grow on the hillsides here. hours upon hours of picking blackberries throughout the month of august left both of us with ghost images of them burned into our mind's eyes when laying down in bed. with the haul, we have started our first batch of blackberry wine, and (if all goes right) should have a bottle or two of a full bodied blackberry wine to share in a year. patience is one of the first gifts that comes with learning to work the land.

outside of the vegetable garden, we have been building an untraditional garden space in the old stream bed. 
the stream is a run-off area, where water sheds from the rain in the holler. it is sometimes dry, sometimes a trickle and on occasion, a veritable river with heavy rain. we lost our first attempts down there with all the precipitation this year and have since drug down dead wood which was harvested from fallen trees along the roadside and in the hills to make huegle beds. we hope to grow perennials there. this summer's crops were: 
mint which we transplanted from another area of the farm, and we planted cherry tomatoes, watermelons and cantaloupe. 
the cherry tomatoes did well. 
the watermelons grew vines but yielded lemon sized melons that molded in the dampness. 
the cantaloupe which we have managed to harvest were "miniature" (about the size of a softball) but delicious to eat. 

hugeling takes time ... remember "patience"? we built beds, with the logs which we have placed to channel the rush of flood that comes with torrential rains, and in the beds we placed soft woods and other decaying plant matter that is fibrous. to that mixture, one adds some good dirt and manure, and you let nature take her course, breaking down the goods. over the years, the wood feeds the bed as well as wicks water to keep the ground moist. 

for the last week i have been on a campaign to rid "hugel island" of a particular nasty weed which serves little purpose (other than strangling all the other plants) down there ... well, to tell the truth, the weed -which i have NO IDEA what it is- fills the underbrush with such rapacity that the island looks a bit naked when it is eliminated. i think i've pulled out about 300 pounds of it thus far ... and like the blackberries, i see this weed's after image when i close my eyes at night. there is such an abundance of it, i believe if i had the time to learn basket weaving that i could put it to good use. of course, it would be difficult because unless one is fully covered and gloved it slices and bites the skin. 
 
in the course of weeding this culprit i am developing an intimate knowledge of hugel island, its bifurcated stream, and the plants that grow wild there. 
there is prolific jewell weed (or impatiens), which is a wonderful medicinal, as well as curled dock.
i have also found a lone ground cherry (which was pretty near strangled by the culprit weed) and a mint that smells like peppermint or spearmint but i am not yet certain what it is. 
golden rod, virigin's bower, iron weed, various asters and many more unidentified plants abound.

so much to learn ... "patience" ...