This is a cutting back year
for us up here on the hill. The
universe may be expanding,
but down here on planet
earth there is an insistent
inner voice that says, like it
or not old man, the time has
come to stop creating more
work for yourself no matter
how much you enjoy the
fruits of your self-inflicted
labors. One of winter’s perennial
tricks is casting a veil of
forgetfulness over the previous
year’s labors. In the past,
I would look out my study
window about this time of
year and imagine all kinds of
new projects.
That is not the case this
year. Instead of, for instance,
envisioning new perennial
beds rippling their way colorfully
down the hillside, I think
a meadow, left completely
to its own devices, would do
just fine.
I have never doubted the
truth of the cliche that less is
more. The difference is that
now I am willing as hell to
buy into it _ hook, line, and
sinker. Last year we operated a
very modest CSA, which went
pretty well, but at the end of
the summer we realized that
as much as we enjoyed growing
veggies for others, we
could easily live without the
worry of making sure that we
not only had enough of everything,
but that it all stayed
fresh by pickup time. Plus, we
really yearned for full-time
summer flexibility, a luxury we
had not enjoyed since starting
our daylily business ten years
earlier.
The first thing we did last
autumn was return one of
our largest vegetable gardens
to its former wild state. This
spring we hope to move quite
a few things closer to the
house. It will mean reshaping
things a bit, which will
undoubtedly require a lot of
transplanting and digging.
But the long-term gain will be
worth the effort.
We ordered far fewer
vegetable seeds this year, an
existentially difficult task for
me. We still plan on growing
quite a few vegetables, but
the focus will be on healthy
summer eating and putting as
much food by for winter consumption
as possible. Many of
the exotics, varieties I cynically
refer to as designer veggies
ending in vowels, are out.
Over the past several summers
we have planted quite
a few fruit trees and berry
bushes, all of which should
start bearing within the next
few years. Root crops are
great because once planted
they pretty much take care
of themselves and are never
in a hurry to be uprooted
from their cozy subterranean
homes. I have a particular
affinity for vegetables that do
their work underground and
are content to stay put until
needed. As soon as the snow
clears I hope to pull a few carrots
out of my below ground
cold frame for a late winter
snack. That is, if I can find it!
I can go on and on about
the reasons for cutting back,
but the real reason is that
when one gets on in years
backs, arms, legs, and psyches
start to complain a lot more
about the demands made on
them.
For instance, as much as I
enjoy and appreciate winter,
I have made it very clear that
snow removal is just not as
much fun as it used to be.
Birding in Costa Rica next February
is an attractive option.
Fact is, I enjoy gardening and
farming just as much as I ever
did, but the time has come
to appreciate it more and
wrangle with it less. Besides,
that will leave more time for
foraging in the woods on the
lookout for interesting flora
and fauna, especially ferns,
wildflowers, and birds. The
time is ripe to start coming
down the mountain _ slowly.
Hawthorn Hill
Hawthorn Hill: Cutting back
- Hawthorn Hill
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Irony abounds
These are querulous times. Dissent and disagreement, as uncomfortable as they sometimes are, are essential components of a viable democracy. Democracies are always messy because everyone has a right to speak his mind and because whenever a majority is able to gain the numerical upper hand it pretty much runs the show. Several political philosophers have written quite persuasively of what they characterize as the “tyranny of the majority.” Get enough people on your side and you have the opportunity to get your way so long as you are able to maintain power. I suspect that most thoughtful people would agree that wisdom is hard to come by.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of kinglets and mortality
This is that transitional time of year when fall begins to take its final bow and winter starts to seep into our lives not always with a great deal of subtlety. It is also a time when body seems quite willing to step aside and let mind have dominant sway for a while.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Wisdom
I do not know about anyone else, but I tired of selfcongratulatory political talk a long time ago. Fact is, I have never liked it much. One candidate interviewed yesterday had nothing at all good to say about the present administration. In the process of lambasting its record on just about every front, this individual never once offered any specifics as to how he would go about creating jobs, ending Medicare fraud, or terminating these idiotic wars that we seem intent on embroiling ourselves in.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Rights
There is a lot of chatter these days about rights. It gives one pause. Several weeks ago I heard a politician claim that it is time to win our country back. I was not aware that we had lost it. I wonder who stole it. If you ask a rabid conservative, the answer will most likely be those bleeding heart liberals.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Looking for diversions
It has been a long, psychically trying winter. I always feel more comfortable knowing that I am not alone, so when friends complain openly about cabin fever and wanting “to get the hell out of here” for a while I know exactly what they mean. We are planning a trip to Costa Rica in March, so in order to keep one’s head above the darkening inner clouds, it is necessary to look for diversions that have, as Wordsworth put it, a renovating virtue. Luckily for me, Redpolls fit the bill.
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Hawthorn Hill: Quietness
I want to make a case for quietness. Thoreau writes that he never found a companion as companionable as solitude. It is a sentiment that I share. As I sit here looking out over the snow-covered hills I am struck by the absence of movement. I am awed by a stillness unstirred by wind or activity of any kind. There is no noise, neither human nor animal. How nice that is.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
