By the Light of the Moon?

The sweaters are now strewn about the house. Every time we leave the house we put on a hat. The teapot is set to boil several times a day. We are heading into the cold, wet, mostly grey days of winter, which around here can last for more than its prescribed three month time slot.

Yesterday was a day of scrambling in anticipation for a bitterly cold night. We heard that the night-time temp might dip below freezing and began to worry about our crops. Now, when we lived in the big city, a weather report like that would have just motivated us to put an extra blanket on the kids, but not so now that we are farmers. We tune into the weather report. We notice where the fog settles around the island. We walk the property and feel where the air is warmer. We get whiplash driving around the island noticing how everyone else prepares their gardens for the winter.

Up until yesterday, we were slipping into what I would call "hobby" farming; putzing about the farm doing a little something here and a little something there. I had started to remove a ring of sod from around each tree in the orchard and then planting the uncovered dirt with bulbs that would hopefully emerge in the Spring. I started this project in October, and still was not finished. (keep in mind we have 72 trees in the orchard) We worried that if things got cold enough to freeze we could not dig in any more bulbs, so we headed down to the orchard to get to work.

I started planting bulbs around mid-day before I had to fetch kids from schools, and then we returned as a family after naps. By the time we got down to the orchard it was 4:00 and the sun was going down fast. I started heeling in bulbs as fast as I could while the kids played in the fading light. Toby got the tractor started and delivered several loads of fresh topsoil to blanket the bases of the trees. The headlights on the tractor lighted our way to planting the last 150 daffodil bulbs we had ready to go. The kids made great shadows to entertain Toby and I as we frantically worked to get everything tucked in and buttoned up. Gus performed a benediction declaring that we worked hard, but still may lose some of our crop. (I think he has been reading too many little house on the prairie lately) We all gave thanks for a job well done, no matter what the outcome, and headed home.

I marveled at the moon last night, it was a perfect crescent. Just a sliver of light, but enough for you to find your way. And I marveled at how we needed just that little bit of a kick in the pants to get us to remember that we are farmers. And sometimes that means you end up working your fields by the light of the tractor headlight, because you can't wait for a full moon.