Early Growth


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March, when days are getting long,

Let thy growing hours be strong

To set right some wintry wrong.

~Caroline May

Dear Reader

On the first full day of spring, the view out my window reveals scattered remnants of seasons past. Waving in the blustery wind are threads of bean vines still attached to the summer trellis. Towering seed heads of Bee Balm nod, and a patchwork of snow remains. And yet when I slip on my muck boots for a wander, there are minuscule signs of life, even in this still bitter cold. Bits of new nettle leaves peak out from under last year's decay, and I've just spotted a few first emerging crocuses.

In the Northeast, the first phase of early growth occurs mostly indoors. In addition to basement shelves lined with plant starts, this year we are also raising five young hens. Much like the plants we tend, outdoor life is still too harsh for these young chicks. As March does what it’s famous for, our nighttime temperatures remain below freezing, and daytime doesn’t deliver much more warmth. The next four-week period is a time when building resilience for the great outdoors is the theme.

Soon, I hope, when the middays begin to warm, there will be short forays out and about. Until then, day-to-day life is still confined to the house. For now, all proceeds in a harmonious and cozy way, but with each passing week, the deep desire for fresh air and space will expand in us all, plants, chicks, and humans.

The plants receive a morning and evening check to monitor moisture and growth. It’s astounding how much growth can occur in a mere 12 hours of a seedling's life. The chicks get a bit more attention. Residing in their fancy DIY Rubbermaid brooder just off the kitchen, they benefit from the proximity, which helps them establish familiarity with our voices and rhythms. Like the plants, they can grow within hours.

Arriving last week as downy fluff balls, they are now each sporting some fine feathering, a hint at the hen they will soon become. Personalities have emerged quickly, and this flock is shaping up to be a crew of characters. As the soil begins to thaw, they’ll join me for short adventures in the garden when I prep a bed or tend to what has overwintered. Just like our plants, these girls will become part of the ecosystem we’ve been establishing and have some important jobs. While we assume responsibility for their care and safety, they forage and assist in creating compost. Eggs will be welcome, but aren’t the primary need. The hens aren’t a separate project; they are part of the whole.

It’s potting soil pick-up weekend, and not a moment too soon. Last weekend, we scraped together the last bits that remained from the previous year to get the cabbage, collards, and kale underway. There's a long list in this weekend's planting plan, and many of them are herbs I wanted to share with you.

Long before my New Hampshire chapter began, I had always tended a tea garden of sorts. Sometimes it was a border along a fence line, and other times it was in a window box or a collection of terra cotta pots on a terrace. Tea isn’t the first thing one considers in terms of self-sufficency but it certainly ranks high in its ability to provide comfort. This is why I propose giving some of my favorite tea herbs a go. Even if you have never gardened, herbs for tea are simple, rewarding, and so forgiving. Qualities our world needs more of today.

Here are four suggestions to consider. My absolute favorite tea herb is Lemon Balm. A reliable long-season perennial, it is the first to make a spring appearance and the last to fade come winter. Just this week I dusted off the lingering bits of snow and picked my first leaves since December. A favorite afternoon tea, its clean, smooth taste is always welcome. A very close runner-up is Habek mint. This Middle Eastern mint never overpowers like spearmint or peppermint. Its round flavor is delicious on its own and partners nicely with others. A very special herb that will also benefit your pollinators is Korean Mint, Agastache Rugosa. Not a true mint but rather in the hyssop family, this quickly became the iced tea of choice last summer. And we can’t forget Chamomile. In fact, that is exactly what I am drinking as I write this note. Delicious warm or iced it lends beauty and grace to every tea garden.


Happy Spring,

The sun transits through Gates 25 & 17

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Field Notes from Lauren

I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.

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