Working at Red Dog Farm and other organic vegetable farms has made me much more aware of the changing seasons than I ever was before. Even though I now spend so much of my time watching the skies and debating the relative merits of different weather-forecasting apps and websites, I’m still surprised and amazed by the commonplace magic of seasonal change. It seems like just yesterday that Charlie and I were joking about paddling a kayak out to the chard beds beyond our flooded lower field, but all of a sudden we have an irrigation schedule planned for the week that would rival July’s.
The farm feels like a different place in the springtime. All the energy from seedlings bursting out of the soil, straining towards the sun, is infectious somehow. We find ourselves moving faster, hustling to get everything done only a few short weeks after we worried that we wouldn’t have enough projects to fill the days.
It can feel a little wild at times, but our wonderful crew are all united by our desire to make things happen smoothly and efficiently. As surprised as I am by the predictably warmer air and brighter days, I’m just as surprised when we tear through a project or to-do list faster than I ever thought possible. The farm as a physical entity and as a community of people are both bristling with stored-up winter energy, ready to blossom forth in abundance this growing season.