Change doesn’t happen overnight.
Be kind to yourself.
I don’t know about you, but I adore the change of the seasons.
Summer felt unending.
Now the fire is lit. Electric blankets on beds.
We rug up in cosy tracksuits and mock shiver in morning kitchen greetings.
I’ve been busy in the garden. Uncovered new local gardening friends who show up with buckets full of home grown bounty.
Last year’s garlic harvest was eaten, pickled and saved.
The saved garlic has been re planted clove by clove. (I saved all the garlic skins to make home made garlic salt).
The new garlic plants are now peeking up between rows of cos lettuce.
Because of an entire packet accidentally tipped into a planter box, we are going to be eating a lot of Caesar Salad! I’ve also been gifting lettuce to said new friends.
In between work on my computer, last year’s beds have been cleared of encroaching kikuyu grass. The horse feed bags I laid down to make way for paths have been lifted. Revealing long tendrils of kikuyu roots and sleeping white grubs the size of my little finger.
Hens wait patiently throughout the process as I peg grubs in their direction. Protein shots for chickens.
Once the beds are weeded, I scrape the top surface of the paths back into the garden, providing more organic matter for the thousands of worms that have now furnished each garden bed in astounding numbers.
Build it and they will come.
Worms will come of their own accord, then multiply in their thousands when they have a good environment to exist in.
In a beautiful circular bio-economy, they have plenty to eat from decaying plants and introduced compost from my pile.
There is bountiful microbial activity in the healthy soil which hasn’t endured any chemical intervention and has been blessed by growing with diversity of plant species intermingled with each other. Tomatoes growing alongside beans, pumpkins, corn, capsicum and chilli.
The compost heap is bulging with long tails of past pumpkin vines, kikuyu grass, spent tomatoes, sorghum plants and rustling remains of corn and sunflower.
I turn the steaming pile every Saturday morning, a replacement for an upper body workout at the gym.
In new neatly aligned beds I’ve planted beetroot, kohl rahbi, onions, spinach and silver beet. My gifted brussel sprout, garlic chives and tatsois growing neatly in satisfying rows.
As I write this from the verandah, mist floats luxuriously across the landscape.
My shoulders, arms and back aching from pulling weeds. Hands roughened and a permanent thin arc of soil beneath my finger tips.
That rewarding feeling to sink back into my chair, cast my eyes over the vista. Imagining the bounty to come.
We haven’t had a hard frost yet, so tomatoes still flourish. Collecting buckets to be cooked and stored for later.
The tomatoes are oblivious to the impending frost that will freeze them from the inside out.
Or perhaps they do know and are enjoying their last Hurrah!
Head high pink and white Cosmos flowers bob daintily from their repurposed polystyrene boxes.
Mother hen with her six fluff ball chicks comes around the corner. Her, constantly chattering. They, diligently peeping back. She is a force to be reckoned with. The cats and dogs staying well clear. A protective mother hen will puff herself up to twice her size and launch at offending attackers. Claws and beak flying.
The sun noticeably rises more towards the north as we ease into Winter.
Droplets fall from the Crepe Myrtle tree, bringing fire coloured leaves with them.
The fig tree now nearly naked, just a few persistent leaves holding on tightly. Her bows now revealed, snaking in and out of each other. Reminding me it’s time to think about pruning.
When I was younger, I longed for an eternal summer.
One layer of clothing. Hours spent in water. Skin tanning a golden hue.
As I grow older, Winter beckons like a new friend.
Encouraging me to breathe in the crisp air. Submit to early evenings spent curled into a couch by a flickering fire.
How is your Autumn going?
Are you enjoying or resisting?
Or are you on the other side of the earth, excited for the Summer stretching out before you?
As always, thank you for reading.
Kylie x
Reminder -my book Soil Sister, Farming for our Future is not just for kids. It explains, in simple terms, how regenerative farming works and how it can help heal ourselves and our planet.
And I’m also on LinkedIn.
You can contact me here
Message Soil Sister - Kylie Magner
if you would like me to speak at your event.
Upcoming Events:
June 1 - Smallholder Long Lunch with Matthew Evans, Tocal Homestead. SOLD OUT.
June 27 - Groundswell UK, in conjunction with Ooooby.
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