The winter
countenance of Restoration Farm is a silvery apparition of the buoyant, green
landscape of spring and summer. It is ethereal, yet still familiar. While the farm appears dormant, there is a
sense of quiet energy – a sense of life simmering beneath the camouflage of
mud, wood chips and rainwater.
Flocks of
small birds huddle in the bare trees, and even a robin redbreast darts across
the fields, suggesting that spring may be closer than it feels.
While the
past growing season is long concluded, one notes evidence of indefatigable kale
and kohlrobi.
A cold frame protects rosemary from the chilling temperatures.
The old red
barn stands stately in any season, a storage house for garlic and root
vegetables.
Donna Sinetar's hens keep a watchful eye.
The sheep,
kept by the historic village, huddle in their wooly winter coats.
Tractor
marks suggest evidence of human intervention.
Indeed, even
in January, the farm crew is hard at work, making repairs and building a new
frame for the blueberry bushes to replace the one damaged during Hurricane
Sandy.
At Apple
Trace, the heirloom saplings have shed their leaves, but the naked branches are
dotted with buds of optimism.
Far from
desolate, winter at Restoration Farm is a season of anticipation.
“Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit
tree in winter. Who would think that
those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.”
Johann Wolfgang won Goethe
©2013 T.W.
Barritt All Rights Reserved