A swarm left one of the beehives today and settled high in a nearby pine tree. No chance to retrieve this one and put it in a hive next to its mother hive. It felt fitting. This swarm’s bid for absolute freedom.

Late August these last few years has meant the departure of various children to new ventures away from the farm. The last week in August this year we’ll have our largest exodus yet, when Emily leaves for her first year of college, Lizzy moves into a faculty apartment at the Putney School and Ben settles back into his faculty apartment in a dorm at Kimball Union.

As William is quick to note, this means only one child at home to do the dishes AND feed the dogs AND set the table AND do all the chores that once were divided among four sets of hands.

To prepare for new jobs and new school years, everyone but me has gone off on last minute adventures. The three older children went to NYC for some serious shopping, Jim went to Connecticut for an end of summer visit with his mom and William has gone off on a thirty six hour fried dough junket at the local Cornish Fair. Yes, there is supposed to be some showing of cows in there, but when you are twelve, its really all about the punishing rides and fried dough.

Anyways, these temporary departures leave me and the swarm and the cats and dogs in a quiet emptiness that has been rare this busy summer. All of us testing the waters of what lies ahead.

When a swarm leaves a hive, it goes to a temporary location while bee scouts are sent out from the swarm to find possible locations for their new home. These scouts report back possibilities to the swarm and then the swarm actually votes which possible location it wants the hive to move to.

When a swarm lifts off for its new home, it is a sight to behold. The swarm rises up about fifty feet into the air. Then this swirling mass of bees starts to move so fast that even as I have occasionally tried to run after a swarm to see where it is going, I have never been able to keep up with its speedy departure.

Eventually, sometime in the next day or so, this swarm will vote and go. I have been watching the remaining hives today, trying to sense which hive emptied out some of its members. Are the bees inside one of these hives like William, feeling the pain of fewer hands to wash the dishes/collect the nectar? Is the Queen bee who remains feeling glad for the space or bereft or maybe a little bit of both?

I have no idea what it will feel like this fall when the troops roll and just me, Jim, and William remain here. Our hive will probably be tidier, quieter, and William won’t have nearly as many dishes to wash as he thinks because the main dish generators will have left the building.

I am ready for less domestic engineering. I won’t mind a little bit less clutter, fewer meals to cook for the masses and a mudroom census of less than forty five pairs of running shoes, cleats, flip flops, and boots. While I am happy that each departing child is about to experience new community, new adventures, and an expansion of their lives into hives of their own, I am also delighted at the prospect of stretching my own wings in new directions. Unhitched from some of my domestic duties, I expect to discover hidden combs in this hive of mine.

Yet, I am still me. This means I will be glad that unlike swarms that depart once and for all, departing children seem to choose to return to the mothership hive for visits. And you know what? I bet when this happens, even William will be glad to see the dishes pile up.

One new Rose Flower Essence from this summer is Golden Wings Rose.

Right now, a time when most Roses are past, Golden Wings is giving us all a lovely second showing of Flowers and her haunting fragrance fills the gardens.

Here is our working definition for this new friend, a definition that will no doubt shift and deepen as we all get to know this Flower and her Essence better.

“A stunning single Rose in an ethereal yellow with red and orange stamens. Aptly named, this Rose helps us find freedom from fear, specifically the fear that we are doing the wrong thing. It is an Essence of Faith for the earnest seeker, reminding us that we cannot get lost from God or fall outside of God because we are in God always. Golden Wings Rose notes, “You never left the Garden of Eden because you are the Garden of Eden. That idea is just a cultural sanskara that I will help you release.” (For more on sanskaras, see blog on 3/7/2007 on ‘Carry Less’)

Summer’s bounty comes in many shapes and sizes. This weeks bounty included a surprise visit from Catherine Boorady, former staff Goddess now Queen of Brooklyn, her husband Michael, and dog Motomo.

During our visit, Michael helped Jim build a door for the woodshed place to toss bikes lawnmower palace much deserved woodworking shop for Jim. Yes, we have finally talked him into accepting a space designated for his tools, woodworking equipment and projects.

Michael, now a contractor in Brooklyn, helped Jim to build and throw up this sliding door faster than you can say Park Slope.

Michael and Catherine’s regal companion Motomo broke all the rules (AND GOT AWAY WITH IT) by swimming in the goldfish pond. Blessedly, a befuddled Riley and May May observed but have not copied said antics.

In the office, we put Catherine back in the saddle for a day putting labels on bottles.

She said it was “restful after life in Brooklyn”. We said “thanks” as we were grateful for her experienced help during the summer rush of things to do inside and out.

After his refreshing dip, Motomo came in to make sure Catherine was doing a good job (She was).

The visit culminated with a festive dinner (of course) with the first ever Green Hope Farm apple crisp.

After everything I said with such confidence last year about clearly not having apple trees that cross pollinate properly and therefore long years without apples stretching ahead, I am literally having to eat my words!

We are having a heck of an apple year with all the apple trees groaning under the weight of ripening fruit. (Add this to the mounting evidence that I do not know what I am talking about.)

The first laden tree is ripe for the picking.

Having lost my early map of Green Hope Farm plantings, I can only guess what variety of apples these are. I think they are Yellow Transparent, a lovely August ripening apple, delicious fresh off the tree but also excellent when cooked, though not much of a keeper ( this last detail according to my apple book, former details now road tested by apple crisp recipients and wandering children who have been eating these pale yellow lovelies off the trees all week).

The fact that these are not terribly good keepers means I must stop now and leave you to go to the kitchen to do something with today’s haul. Ciao!

The Echinacea is a delight.

Especially to the bumblebees.

A return kayak expedition to Grafton Pond

finds us watching a loon family of mama, papa, and baby. We had never heard a loon parent’s “doowop doowop” call to a child before. We found our afternoon of watching mama and papa loon fishing out front of our island spot while making the occasional reassuring call to fuzzy brown baby loon near shore very tender.

Here just one of family swims by.

The kayak expedition also found us the Flower blossoms we had come for, Wintergreen.

Back at the farm, Lizzy just arrived home from her summer job at the Putney School’s summer Arts camp. She’ll be back to the Putney School in the fall to teach history (making her the third history teacher in our family of six right now. The dogs greeted her enthusiastically and have already set off for a run in the hills with her.

Note that in the background you can see Jim’s shed is already doing serious duty. Emily and Sophie stacked two cords of wood into the shed last week and have the newly arrived third cord to do this week.

And yes, it really is THAT dry here. This summer we have gone from too dry to too wet to too dry again.

Some things bloom with abandon anyways. Here the Golden Glow Helianthus begins its late summer fireworks.

Scabiosa or Pincushion Flowers fill the cut Flower bed with lovely blossoms for bouquets in the house and office.

Rose hips are ripening as are the peaches, pears, plums, and apples. The blueberries need picking every thirty minutes and there is MORE broccoli to process….. but best of all, for those in need of a prince, one awaits in the pool outside the office door.

There is a lovely flood of produce from the gardens right now. Several days ago, basket on basket of broccoli needed to be processed. And now today it’s bushels of beans.

As I cut up all the broccoli, washed then steamed it, and finally packed it into bags for the freezer with my much used Farm Journal’s Freezing and Canning Cookbook at my side,

I couldn’t help thinking about how time consuming a process it is to be even a half baked localvore like I am.

You must have noticed by now how much I love harvesting all the things growing in the gardens and how much pleasure I get from big crops of this or that berry or squash. Though some tried, no one was ever able to take the peasant soul out of me. I am so glad of that because my daily life is right here in these gardens. And as this is where I am, it is a good thing I find such happiness in a large bowl of pie cherries or a freezer full of broccoli.

Yet even living here, right smack dab in the gardens and loving the whole process, it takes a lot of time to keep up with handling and preserving the flood of wonderful food this time of year.

As my own boss, I have the flexibility to spend a morning with the broccoli when the broccoli needs me to do so. I can structure my day so it can be a fun job versus one done at midnight after other things that had to come first. Our culture so vastly under appreciates what’s involved in food production that someone asking their boss for the morning off to freeze broccoli would probably be considered odd. I am sorry that for most people food production would be a joyless task hard to accommodate in an already packed life. I understand that food has been such a cheap commodity in the past few decades that no time is allocated in our culture for growing or harvesting it. Most of us have to spend our time earning money for things that cost more.

Perhaps as fuel prices drive up the price of all the cheap food imported to us from all over the planet, the economics will prove motivation enough for more of us to grow some of our own food, but I would like to see a world that was structured to carve out much more time for food growing and harvesting so that it could be a joyful activity not just an increasingly necessary one.

I don’t want everyone to have to return to growing broccoli as a tiresome necessity. In my dream world, people would have the time to love growing food. They would get a chance to discover it to be a joyful even miraculous activity connecting us to earth and to the ceaseless miracle of seeds that become plants that nourish our bodies and souls.

Okay, so I can dream……