At precisely 6:51 AM on Saturday, June 21, 2014 Summer grins broadly and announces, “I’m back.”
Still in my robe, I greet Summer on my backyard deck with a steaming earthenware mug of coffee in hand. There is still a chill in the air as Summer slips back into our lives. I am tempted to chide her for taking her own sweet time in returning, but that would be ungracious. She is here for such a short time. Summer’s smile warms me to the core of my being. We take a few minutes to get reacquainted, and chat about how to spend this, the longest day of the year.
At Restoration Farm, Summer’s visit is welcomed with open arms. The fields yield whimsical radishes and crisp white turnips in celebration of the event.
The snap peas greet Summer with a burst of emerald green and a sweet snap of flavor.
Farm members emerge from hibernation. They gather in the field to pick luscious red strawberries and reunite with each other, buzzing about the potential of the season.
Head Grower Dan Holmes plows the fields to expose the earth to the heated passion of Summer’s smile.
At Apple Trace, the eight heritage apple trees planted in memory of my Dad welcome their third summer standing tall, covered in vibrant green leaves.
The new additions to the farm – two charcoal gray pastured piglets from Amish country in Pennsylvania – lounge happily in the balminess of Summer’s playful gaze. Theirs will be a jovial season of foraging and tilling the soil of the fields to their heart’s content.
Gentleman farmer, George Garbarini – brown from the sun and now well into his eighth decade of mercurial summers – is busy assuring the grass is clipped and the fields look their best for the solstice celebration.
The blackberry bushes clothe themselves in buoyant pink blossoms – with no hint of their darker mood to come.
Summer’s smile warms the fields, the farmers and members of Restoration Farm alike. We revel in her visage knowing too well that her visit will be far too brief.
©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved