These notes are kept slow. Written over years instead of seasons. They mark what the land shows us when we stay put long enough to notice.
February 2025
Cold holds longer on the north slopes. Frost stays even when the sun looks warm. We walk the rows anyway. Oaks and hickories stand where they always have. The orchard waits.
October 2024
Rock decides where trees can live. We stopped fighting it. Dig where the ground opens. Leave the rest alone. The mountain keeps its own counsel.
September 2025
Early apples don’t wait. Miss them and they’re gone. Best eaten where they fall, juice running down your wrist.
August 2024
Some years come fast. Others hold back. Ripening isn’t even and never has been. You learn to watch the trees, not the calendar.
November 2025
The good keepers aren’t much to look at. Hard skin. Plain color. Time finishes their work in the cellar.
December 2024
We store what lasts and let the rest return to the ground. Nothing here is wasted. What feeds the soil feeds the future.