Tag Archives: summer

Sunburn and Rain

3 Jul

July brought the rain.

It’s 47 degrees outside and feeling normal at last. But what’s normal anymore. Normal. The older I get, the the hazier that description becomes.
We experienced record warm spring temperatures that followed a winter that felt encasing in it’s grip of ice and cold.   I started to long for a day or 2 of mist and rain, the kind that smells like green moss and ferns.    I was getting worried about the peonies that were shooting up and forming buds faster than the sun burn was reddening on my forehead.  I needed to get to the feeding portion of this adventure quick but weeding was sucking up all my time.

Finally, I have my compost tea extravagance soaking into the soil and I feel alittle more on top of it and alittle less withered.  It’s taken a few days to dampen the soil enough for it to accept the liquid and not let it roll off it’s shoulder- spurned.

I had watched a magnificent storm front build and crash over the Kenai mountains late one night in June.  The sight of it made me stop and want to breathe it in.  The front swept up into the sky over the mountains in a lavender, pink, orange and mauve wave with layers of grey and blue clouds skirting the edges.  The bay below was deep teal color like tie-dye silk.   All day had been hot, dry and windy– it pulled the moisture out of everything.  Now there was the reason.              It was the kind of sight that makes you understand how a symphony might be born into the mind of a great composer.  And you know something grander than anything you can comprehend is happening somewhere.JUNE 2013  CRPF ready for summer 163

I felt the static in the air. I finished mowing, then the tilling, put the equipment away, closed the shop doors, the greenhouse and high tunnel- locked all the gates, all the while watching that impressive sky.  I could see the wind line advance from the glacier front to cross the bay toward me.

By midnight I was closing the windows as a few drops of rain sprinkled the glass.

I felt a vast and complete connection to being alive, being here in this place.

I ate, washed and dropped into a depth of teal colored space as soon as I hit the bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peonies, full of promise

23 Jun
High tunnel peonies, a glimpse of summer!

High tunnel peonies, a glimpse of summer!

Holy cow, it’s a scorcher!

13 Jun

Summer arrived this year like it broke out of jail. No casual stroll, no leisurely chit-chat; summer pounced. The last thinning snow piles withered under the ray-gun eye of the sun. I don’t remember ever having a spring/summer arrive with such purpose before. We’ve had weeks now of dry clear skies, it’s just not done in these parts. The girls I hired to help here at the farm are from Missouri and Michigan, both giggle at my proclamations of the day being “a scorcher!”.    They mimic me and fain heat stroke.    Ok, so it’s 70, but to me it feels like 90, I swear!  I even have a sun burn to prove it.
Today I look out at a white frothy foamed in Bay. I see the snow swiped peaks across the bay but the water is beneath all that white. Poor souls down there. To be robbed of even one of these glorious days is criminal.
Especially after the past few years of desperate anemic summer temperatures.
I’m off to pot up some lovely ladies to sell at the Homer Farmer’s Market. What an amazing vibrant community event our Farmer’s Market is; no community should be without one of their own. I’ll try to remember to bring my camera to capture the festival feeling, the friends and neighbors and fabulous produce!   My biggest challenge will be capturing the taste of the fresh baked pastries on film, it may take several tries.

Coulda-Shoulda

12 Oct

  I’ve decided that the best thing to do is put this summer right in the compost pile. Some good stuff still in it but for the most part, the rest is ready for the pile.
It’s freezing at night and almost freezing during the day, but we aren’t complaining because at least there has been sun for 3 or 4 days running! We just finished pouring the slab for the Shop-Mahal, just finished cutting all the peony fields, just about finished the late fertilizing program for the peonies, just finished clearing out the high tunnel, just finished the chicken pen in the high tunnel (new idea this year), just about ready to put the commercial fishing boat up for winter, just about done harvesting the kitchen garden, coulda done more, coulda done better, coulda slept more, shoulda rode my bike once, shoulda cut the rhubarb, shoulda picked the currents before they froze, speaking of: shoulda picked raspberries this year, and shoulda wrote more on my blog: I missed it.

OH! One more shoulda: I shoulda named this blog post “And the light leaves!” (since the last blog post was “And the light returns..”