In early June we had 5 chicks hatch from eggs one of our hens dutifully sat on. This morning one of those chicks is sitting on top of its house, facing east, and letting out what can only be described as teenager’ish, chicken puberty, crows. This has happened each morning for about a week. Today the other birds join it on top of the house, all facing east toward the beautiful red rising sun. The life of the chicken, the life of the farm.
Very humid air. It is indeed early August and the harvest is starting to come in. We’ve lost one apprentice, perhaps to burn-out, perhaps to ill placement, which leaves the rest of us working ever as dutifully hard. I, for one, am enjoying the work.
Today a harvest for market spills over from yesterday. We have more greens, carrots, squash, cucumbers to pick. A special delivery to Rockland to make-up for a canceled farmers’ market this week (thank you Lobster festival). We are bring flowers for tonight’s reception at the Dowling and Walsh gallery; it always feels nice to contribute to a special event.
Is this mid-summer or toward the end of the growing season? It is hard to say. Some years this time would arrive and I would feel the tickling of frost coming soon. Today it is a worry in the back of my mind, but there is too much abundance, too much still to mature (tomatoes, winter squash…) to dare worry about the life of those plants coming to an end. So we continue to harvest, plant, tend… move food around from out county to the next (and sometimes further away), all in the good graces of the summer sun. And I’m feeling thankful.