One of the themes that Peri from Mud on the Tracks weaves in and out of her farm blogging deals with how as a farmer she began to become more in-tune with the seasons and how differently time marches on through each of them. I thought I knew what she meant at the time, I mean isn’t it obvious what happens in each of the seasons?
After now having farmed (sort of) for over a year I think I see a deeper and truer meaning to what Peri was talking about. I now notice more things going on in the farm world around me and sense the ticking clock of natures’ cycles. When do I plant and how long till it can be harvested? How long does it take to replenish the grass in an area grazed by sheep? Goats? When do I introduce the breeding groups? How much hay do I need?
All these things reveal the interaction of time, life, and seasonal weather. I can feel time marching on, I have to peer into the future to establish my goals. I don’t mean ‘in a taping of a Wednesday weekly TV show way’, but in a deeper ‘feel the force of life way’. Every season has it’s own special joy and excitement. Spring brings birthing, planting, and cleansing rains. I love watching the forest and pastures explode in a lush green Summer growth spurt under the hot sun, and this last Fall I enjoyed the harvest and establishing the breeding groups. Even the Winter had its own unique charm, providing a break from the daily grind and yet allowing for a growing anticipation of new life. I so enjoyed watching the pregnant ewe’s and doe’s bellies slowly grow, imagining the fuzzy little ones to come.
Have you ever looked, I mean really looked at the miracle that we call an egg? Danni over at Critter Farm often discusses how unique each egg really is, I have learned a lot from her musings. Egg production, size, and color ebbs and flows with the season, another previously unnoticed function of time.
I find it interesting to read about time being measured from paycheck to paycheck – really? That seems like a totally foreign way of life. I understand the rationale, but I now see so much more. I think in terms of seasons, of harvests, of genetics and new life, of feed stores and living. Todays culture celebrates youth and living for the moment, but why is it that I can’t wait to eat my ripe tomatoes? I can’t wait for the Commander to finish clearing the side woods so I can see next years pastures, shouldn’t I mourn the lost time? I am so excited to breed Gidgit and see her kids next year, yet won’t I be older?
I hope Peri chimes in with her thoughts, what are yours?