field

The Herd


I often see them running.



Particularly in the woods behind the house, running northeast to southwest or the reverse.



This time, it was out in the fields, down the road. 




After The Rains



I could hardly sleep knowing I would be rising at 3:30 in the morning. It didn't help that the upstairs tenants were noisy as always. So, when I awoke at 2:58 am, I got out of bed and readied myself for the drive to the farm. Brooklyn is unsavory at four on a Sunday morning. Still so many people up, yet those who rise early are also about. There is more traffic on the highways than one imagines at that hour. I could relax, however, by the time I made it to Nassau County, and then the road was nearly empty by central Suffolk County, before this part of the Earth rolled into the visible rays of the sun.


Driving through the Hamptons was also a quite hospitable at 5:30 in the morning. Every place I usually turn to for breakfast was still closed on a Sunday morning, but thankfully the chatty, vibrant ladies of Hampton Coffee were open for business before 6 am. And, for those interested, their restroom was spotless.


All was covered in early morning dew.


Hard not to notice the elephant garlic scapes as they rocket to the sky.


The plan is to market these to local florists. Any florists in the house? At what stage are they most appealing -open, closed, half-way?


Generally the field looked better than I imagined given the report from my farming neighbor stating that my field was a pond. The surface water had 24 hours to drain since the last of the rain, and all had from the cultivated rows.


The weeds and the clover cover I planted had grown as expected in the three days since my last visit. Everything, but the garlic, was significantly taller.


At the edge of this year's plot the water still stood.


At the northern extent of my field the water was a few inches deep and the weeds acclimated to the soggy soil made themselves known. I slogged through the mow cut, hardly making it as my boots sunk ankle deep in the mire. I then crossed to the adjacent lower field that had recently been cultivated. A real nightmire.


The field had received nearly 5 inches of rain in 24 hours. That's nearly a month and a half's worth in one-forty-fifth the time. But that doesn't make it any less of a problem for growing a crop that generally accepts dry soil conditions. I can only hope that this soggy condition doesn't exacerbate this spring's growing problems.  I'm also not sure that I can make use of the northern third of my field for garlic. I'll have to work with the Trust to find an equitable solution, possibly drier land.


Checking on flood damage was only one reason to head to the farm. The reason I left so early was to be able to harvest garlic scapes to deliver to my neighboring farm for this week's farmers' market. He needed them by 7 am, and as luck would have it, we both arrived at the gate at exactly the same moment. Unfortunately he had a hard time selling them. Apparently there isn't much taste for the garlic vegetable in the Hamptons. I hope he has better luck at his Thursday market. I also cut 5 pounds (250 scapes) for shipment to the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture kitchen. Scape season will be on for another 3 weeks and I hope I can sell more, lest they become compost.


Scape cutting was finished by 8 am, so the remainder of the day belonged to weeding punctuated by breaks designed to alternate from my weeding posture. I walked to the edge of the field and I spotted a remnant of an old plot. Evidently used for growing herbs, it had chamomile flowers, culinary sage, thyme, bronze fennel, and some purple lettuce.


I also discovered this bed of strawberries.


I bumped into a turtle crossing the road. They are such funny and cute creatures.


And I noticed peas growing in the wheat.


Unfortunately, the East Coast just endured yet another bout of heavy rains, only two days since the passing of the last event. The field in Amagansett received 2 inches of rain on top of the five of Friday. Hudson Clove has been socked with all kinds of difficulties this season, but most can be tackled throughh better soil preparation, including grading and amending to compensate for wet soil. After harvest I will be able to concentrate on the good work of preparing the land for next season. Proper liming, adding gypsum, compost, turning under the summer buckwheat crop, contouring for better drainage. That's about all I can do without moving to another field. With luck I will be able to plant some of my garlic in November, but it's too soon to tell. Although I planned to do this to increase my yields and acclimate the planting stock, I may have to buy a significant portion of my planting stock this season to make up for losses. This practice will greatly add to my costs and at some point becomes a deal breaker. 


Van Camping: Night Two

We tried another state campground, but they were full. Our location had to be within 1/2 hour drive so that we could get to the Boilermaker early. We ended up returning to the Ace of Diamonds. When we arrived, someone told us there was another location way up top the hill. We went to look and wished we had found this yesterday.

The evening was much cooler and less sticky than the night before. So I decided to walk about the fields, snapping shots of the meadow flowers we've become so used to in and around mowed fields.

Wild Parsnip, I believe, Pastinaca sativa.

Apparently the juice of this plant can cause blisters and burns if exposed together to your skin and the sun.

I'm going with Field Thistle, or Cirsium discolor.

Queen Anne's Lace, or Daucus carota, from which we created today's carrot ('carota').

Cannot name this plant, but it was the swollen stems that attracted my attention.

Almost every one in an area had them, which appear like galls. The plants seem to not be affected.

Common Milkweed, Asclepias syriaca.

Betsy started the fire while I was away and I stoked the flames.

Created an area separate from the main fire to heat the cast iron pan.

And fried the macaroni. Afterward, we were fast asleep, on better padded (but still not right) bedding. The air was cool, we used blankets, and waking up in the middle of the night to pee became an opportunity to star gaze.

Boilermaker's morning. Cool and misty at 6 am.


Reunion


This past Saturday, I returned to Weir Farm for some stone wall work. Me ol' house as I arrived, 8:45 am. Immediately I had to get out to take pictures.


The red berries of dogwood trees in the morning sun.


Morning pockets of light and dark. There was dew glistening on the meadow.


The meadow I had known was completely new.


The asters were predominant...


but also grasses ready to seed.


There must have been fifteen types of asters...


scattered about the fields.


Each with minor differences in color, height, flower size, and leaves.





Wasn't this apple tree in the Wizard of Oz?


The predominant color of the field was mauve or russet (clothing catalog, help me out)...


punctuated by drifts of brilliant yellow Solidago or goldenrod.


It was spectacular. After the stone wall was finished, we had two hours til the train. My wife and I went on a hike. The fields were amazing, so what was I thinking - I left my camera in my bag with Park Ranger Emily. The fields appeared designed, but I don't think they are -no more than mowing. I've seen mismanaged cow pastures grazed, the cows leaving goldenrod behind. The goldenrod proliferates and while attractive in its own right, weedy and dominating. These fields, they had blue, white and yellow asters along with the red and ochre grasses. It was stunning as the grass predominated with surprise pockets of contrasting colors.

Saturday's weather was perfect for outdoor work and hiking. We ventured into the woods where we collected red, yellow, brown, black and green acorns. There were many types of mushrooms growing. The biggest surprise was the Indian Pipe. We saw the pearly white kind like those I saw in Forest Park. But I also spotted, nearby the white, brilliant red and yellow Indian Pipe which I later found isn't Indian Pipe proper, but a plant called Pinesap, Monotropa hypopithys.
I really wish I had my camera.


As we were about to leave I felt that the leaves had turned more yellow throughout the day. Wilton, CT is only about an hour northeast of the city. Autumn color is definitely coming earlier this year.


Field Of Dreams

The old farm fields are incredibly productive with native and not, things growing so rapidly it appears to me to be later than early June.


Milkweed is always a standout.


Asclepias syriaca has stout stems, thick leaves that are lighter underneath, and milky sap when any part is torn. A favorite of the Monarch Butterfly in its larval stage. Native.


Three weeks ago I figured this to be another type of Milkweed, growing right across the path from a patch of milkweed.


But then it grew upper branches and looser flower heads. This is either Hemp Dogbane, Apocynum androsaemifolium or Indian Hemp, Apocynum cannabinum. I'm leaning toward the cannabinum.

I noticed the hemp held water droplets on its leaf after a rain, but the milkweed did not. The hemp does have a similar milky sap when broken.


Yellow Wood Sorrel, Oxalis stricta -one of those North American natives that also exists in Europe and Asia.

This one's called Swallowwort, cause it'll swallow anything in its path.


I thought Swallowwort was a nightshade, but it is not: Cynanchum nigrum.


This one's called Smooth Bedstraw.


Don't confuse it with Carpetweed - Smooth Bedstraw, Galium mollugo has squared stems. Then there's the native Catchweed Bedstraw, which this is not.


I think Red Sorrel is really good-looking in a field of grass.


Even close up, Rumex acetosella has it going on, but still it is a weed.


Red Clover, Trifolium pratense


Arenaria spp., chickweed -but which?




Ahh, spitwort! No, well you knew that. Spittle Bug actually excretes this out its anus, then hangs out in there.

Sparrow Vetch or Slender Vetch, Vicia tetrasperma, has tiny, but visible flowers.


Sparrow Vetch's leaves and tendrils say it's in the family of Peas.


Identifying these are a vetching problem. Vicia spp., Vetch.


Achillea millefolium or Common Yarrow


No weed at all, but in the field.


The fruit of the Red Cedar, Juniperus virginiana.


A mustard or lettuce of some kind...


A pea for sure, wisteria probably, what kind?



Evening Walk


I was lured out to the Weir house by the light.

Then to the "Secret Garden" by the shrubs bursting with white flowers.

They perfumed the air.

The apple trees beyond.


Why it is I am so much less likely to go for an evening walk in my city environs, I'll not want to hazard. This evening's walk at the Farm was lovely as always. As I strolled around sniffing this, photographing that (always with the pictures!), I spotted some deer grazing the fields. Afterward, as I made my way back to the cottage, I paused to soak in the grassy field that is my favorite part of the landscape here. I felt a new current, as when you wade through a cold lake and, rather suddenly, you find yourself in warm water. An ever-so-slight pocket of warmer, more humid air surrounded me. Bliss.


Meadow view.

Let me get close.

I'm outa here.

The size-a-my tail!

The grass, the meadow.

I think it is my ideal landscape. I know my place, now more than ever -the space between cultivated and untouched, the messy place in the middle.