Mid-winter’s lucid grey days know no end to longing and wonderment. Even the morning birdsong seems subdued under the atmosphere’s nimbus mood. Can you tell it’s the cabin fever phase of farming in Wisconsin?
I wonder will year 13 as your farmer florist and orchardist, be a ‘Baker’s Dozen’ kind of luck or the kind of luck that makes you surrender. One thing I do know is that I am lucky, I can pay attention to the wisdom of flowers and fruit. I can listen to the wisdom of what people say it is they value about being around flowers, feasting on our fruit.
Marigold’s bright yellow poms harvested alongside elderberries. Photo by Erin Schneider
Marigold Wonder One
I long to plant summertime,
Prop your yellow – orange pathfinding poms,
That edge the gardens with the
three phases of your existence
Confusion – balance – creative force
In a vase
Like the Ashes of the Old World.
I sense the seeds and tree roots stir under strata of snow and soil lines, the Earth tilt softens toward light, and the owls awaken us to winter’s dusk. It’s a subtle anticipation, not to be confused with frost heaves and bud breaks. I get restless, but still need to rest up. There’s an art to timing. We rely on degree days and when bluebirds arrive—they remind us when to plant, when the insects will stir.
Marigold Wonder Two
How is it you confuse the beetles with
lures of pepper and champagne,
leave them drunk in your bitter bracts,
stuck before your veil
as your nectary weds the bees?
mystery beetle on butterflyweed
Your colorful distractions
Remain as they are,
in matrimony and death
Lest the spirits get stuck
in the land of the living.
As farmers we straddle worlds. We attempt to connect the Solar to the Soil to the Plant to the Human and photosynthesize the poetry for your plate and vase. We straddle timelines that don’t fit neatly into a business calendar or budget year. We have to get creative with the resources on hand. We have options, even when everything else might seem overwhelming, inequitable.
I hope it’s enough. Thirteen years in, I have learned to lean into winters’ discomfort, the uncertainty at the start of a season. Discomfort leads to learning. Uncertainty to eventual balance. I have to have faith amidst the unpredictable yet creative force of Climate change and human nature, of wedding flower needs, or fruit set, that the gifts I am putting out to the world instantiate this. Part of this faith is that gifts show up in so many different ways –a new restaurant account, a dahlia bloom just in time for a bride to be, sustained CSA membership, the return of hardy kiwi, a contented customer, the swallows’ return to the barn, and to let go of being attached to outcome.
Potato blossoms. Marigolds are notable companions to potatoes. Photo by Rob McClure
Marigold Wonder 3
Next to the solanum
You smell
But I am hopeful
That your defenses
tubular, orange, and acrid,
will radiate stardust from other suns
As you let us travel to the cosmos and back
In the pom of your excess.
Soon, the scents of spring will diffuse from snow and mud. All I can really do, is seed possibilities and embody the wisdom of the farm’s ecosystems to support us in navigating what’s in store. Our seeds and trees, have been ordered, taxes compiled and at the mercy of our accountant, tools sharpened, pots cleaned, crop plans mapped, and we are ready for the unknown and known unknowns. We are ready and trust the right plants will show up at the right time and will be the ones we need; that whomever signs up for our CSA, books their wedding with us, or visits us are the right people and enough as is.
I am hopeful that you will join us this season in exploring and connect with the wonders of the farm—experience the food and flower feasts that emerge. We would love connect with you! For now all I can do is start seeding summertime and rest in trust. - ES