Around The Farm: Too Warm, A Bit Too Early

A maple tree’s fresh new leaves

It’s a sunny Saturday here on the farm, and it’s been unusually warm. Temperatures yesterday hit 80F and are forecasted to be in the 80s (currently 84F now) for the remainder of the weekend. The combination of high humidity and temperatures makes for some uncomfortable days working outside, a reminder of the real heat and humidity that are just around the corner.

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Haiku: Optimistically Obscured

Temperatures have been bouncing up and down here, and the last vestiges of snow have been shrinking from the approaching sun. This tiny pile of ice crystals was in a shaded alcove on the exterior of the chicken coop, looking as though it was doing its best to hide. Unfortunately, I don’t think it was successful.

Winecraft: Working Wildflowers

We’re surrounded by the incredible beauty – arguably, mundane beauty – of wildflowers. Some belong to what we call “weeds” (undeservedly pejorative), but each has its charm, value, and/or use. While I truly do appreciate their aesthetic appeal, I also appreciate the range of wines that can be made from the edible flowers: some delicate, some bold, and all unique.

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Haiku: Help Our Mother

When seeking beauty, truth – and sadness – are often companions. While it’s a beautifully crisp fall day here, seemingly “normal”, the image of this leaf stirred feelings of deep sadness at the plight of the Earth…our Mother. She suffers, as others seek only to enrich themselves, plundering our home for their own selfish benefit. These bad actors have deliberately misled the public, pretending that the environmental nightmare known as plastic can actually be recycled, distracting people from the fact that the human-caused extinction of many animals continues and that climate change, with its many and devastating impacts, isn’t actually happening…and more. Wake up, people! Question what you’re hearing/reading/being told and seek information from many sources…our collective lives depend on it.

Haiku: Leavesdropping

It’s a delightfully cool day here, with a playful breeze that rustles the leaves in the trees, making it sound – especially when you’re standing below – like breathy whispers. If only I could understand what they’re saying…but it’s a private conversation.

If you believe in the interconnectedness of living beings, it shouldn’t be a stretch to imagine that the trees know that their kind are burning…now on the west coast, earlier in Australia, and ongoing in the Amazon. What must they think of us?

Did you know that it’s estimated that nearly 3 billion animals were killed or displaced because of the Australian bush fires? It’s difficult to comprehend the enormity of this loss, and it will have lasting impacts – from the Reuters article, “researchers said the destruction will see some species become extinct before their existence is even recorded.” 😢

Poem: Goodbye, Bees

What will the world be like
When there are no more bees, trees, or frogs?
When scorched earth is our reality
And we breathe in choking smog?
We continue to generate scads of plastic waste
Build mansions of questionable taste
Kill off species at a unimaginable pace –
Are we proud we’ve trashed this place?
What awaits our children now?
Are clear blue skies and lakes unicorns?
Are we considering the future for mankind
As even more of us are born?
I asked you to recycle your plastic
And put your cardboard in the nearby bin
You laughed at me for having asked it,
And I knew, sadly, that I would not win.
There just aren’t enough who care
Plenty who talk the talk but won’t walk the walk
And plenty who are aware
And deluding themselves about this epoch:
Glaciers melting, record heat,
Dirty air, algal blooms, CAFO meat,
Tech “reality,”, rainforest burning…
But the world keeps turning.
Right?
For those who refuse to accept
What’s in front of their faces
Soon, differences won’t matter,
Like political affiliations, religions, races…
We’ll be struggling to survive
On the world we’ve taken for granted
And abused, neglected, and plundered
And we’ll reap the terrible harvest we’ve planted –
Because not enough of us care, you see,
About anything other than “me”,
Even though the world must operate as “we”…
And so much depends on the flight of the bee.