Spring on the homestead

Three feet of the road crumbled under the torrent of water rushing down the hillside. Several trees, included a beautiful cinnamon colored, 40-foot tall madrone were ripped from their roots and lay prone sideways. Joey recharged several batteries on the chainsaw to clear a path for us to drive the truck to the bottom of the hollows.

I want to learn how to operate a chainsaw and cut up the fallen madrone into chairs or rounds for serving homemade food from our gardens. The culverts await on the side of the road because you can’t bring in heavy equipment when the road is still wet and mushy. I am learning a lot about road maintenance and how it can work well with permaculture, like building French drains and water bars that move the water so it won’t disintegrate the road, gardens or the root systems of trees you want to save.

I admit, I do like feeling close to the land in a way that I can measure my take or use of power. I watch the percentage of energy drop on the solar powered battery when I charge my phone or Bose speaker, run the toaster or the camp lights. When the battery runs low, we carry the solar panel outside. We don’t have cell service so we listen to downloaded podcasts, do puzzles, work on the house or deck, or I read to him or myself. We just settle into life, listen to birds, watch the flowers grow, and tend the garden. We emptied the perlite soil of two hundred grow bags into the garden because we plan to grow the artichokes in the ground. The new wire is working great to keep out the deer. The garlic are growing and I cannot wait to try them!

My beloved sexy man and I were in the quiet of our sacred homestead over Beltane, my most favorite pagan holiday in late April. This sabbat celebrates the unbridled joy of living. It is a time to celebrate the end of winter by jumping over a bonfire, which we built in the middle of a spiral that will one day be filled with wildflowers. When we left Crowley Lake for our homestead in the hollows, the snow tunnel to the wood shed was still eight foot tall on either side. We had shoveled countless hours as the world became a blizzarding white monochrome for five months. Now, we were submersed in nature’s green bounty.

The Wheel of the Year had turned and spring had sprung in Willits. I rejoiced when I saw the poppies, iris, red clover, plantain, pennyroyal, horsetail, olive fruits, blossoms of apple, pear and fig. Even the gorgeous black trumpet mushrooms didn’t escape our watchful eye. I felt immense joy at the return of life… this separation and reconnection cannot be experience until you have lived the pain of a colorless world. Spring is such a metaphor and guide in our lives.

What are you welcoming back into your life with a profusion of life, color and strength?