Spring Dreams
Feb 24, 2024
I have a giant whiteboard that I use to make plans with our farm and cider team. It allows us to look at four months at once, and every December I love to flip it over and point to the spot in April when we'll be planting piles of trees, moving animals to pasture and bustling about and pronounce, "Spring is coming!"
Although I do enjoy the bulging eyeballs and nervous laughter from the crew as we're still finishing up the previous harvest, my main point is that winter on the farm moves fast.
Clean up from the harvest, review the notes, plan for the future, repair some gear, take a short break and it's February 23 before you know it. We're now sitting on the top of the ski slope of Spring with our ski tips teetering over the side. A double black diamond trail lies ahead.
Luckily this year we'll have an extra day on February 29th to get ready.
I'm not much of a guessing man, but lore has it that if it's cloudy on Imbolc (Feb 2, the cross quarter that just passed), then it will be an early Spring. Stemming from the old idea that if the sky is filled with clouds then wet, warmer weather systems are moving in, signaling an early Spring. So I'll go ahead, make a fool of myself and corroborate with that lovable groundhog and call for an early Spring (he didn't see his shadow-too cloudy).
It's been dry here this winter so far. Barely a couple days with a dusting of snow to take the kids out sledding. The ponds still haven't totally filled yet and with warmer than average temperatures the ground has barely frozen for more than a few days. Odd, but becoming more common. Even if Spring doesn't come early, we'll be ready.
Our hatch dates (and slaughter dates) have all been scheduled, with the first chicks arriving in 6 weeks. 50 piglets have already been birthed at the neighbor's farm and will be coming here in March. New pasture housing for them is being constructed as we speak. This year's lambs and calves won't be dropping onto pasture until May (assuming everyone behaved themselves last breeding season), but you can never be too sure.
The animals love an early spring. A chance to eat fresh green grass that much sooner. The fruit trees on the other hand are the opposite. A warm early spring signals blooms to open and more often than not a hard frost will crash onto the radar and kill the fledgling fruit crop (like last year). There aren't too many options to prevent this in a small scale orchard. We dance to the tune nature fiddles.
That's why we don't put all of our eggs in one basket. That's why we diversify the farm and our work. When the harvest is booming we ferment and preserve and lay down extra bottles of cider to ride through the inevitable lean times that lie ahead.
We make our grand plans. Nature laughs. We adapt. We learn.
Out into the sunshine,
Garrett and the Cider House Crew
