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
