Getting the Lay of the Land

 
As I have been exploring the scope of this place that I now call home it isn't surprising that I find myself with more to do than I can fit into any amount of time, even if I'm here all the time. As much as I hate the reason that I've managed to have the last 17 months at home (the Covid 19 pandemic), I have to admit I've loved being here. I have been getting to know its texture, and been witnessing nature's progression. I've had opportunities to see all kinds of things that I normally miss. I'd like to think that as I continue to dig and harvest rocks and clear twitchgrass roots that this place is working itself into my being and we are growing together.

I've mentioned that I've been digging – that has been perhaps the thing I've spent the most time on in the past year and a half. While I have plenty of other things I want to do, things that grow, particularly trees, take time to establish. It took me a long time before I began to have a sense of what I wanted to do here. I had some ideas, but the land here was resistant – and in the long run I'm glad of that. It gave me the time and space to really sit with the space and let my ideas come from the space itself rather than being something I imposed upon the space that might have been out of context.

We have just under an acre of land here – not much for someone who started off in 18 acres of bush, but I'm finding it to be enough. I've realized that it can be what I make it, if I'm willing to do the work. I'm also realizing that if I work with it, it will work with me. We just had to learn to listen to each other, to form a connection and learn how to converse. The clock of nature is speeding up and I'm seeing it start to move its hands forward to the next phase of the hour. Where twitchgrass reigned almost without rival, more and more native plants are beginning to hold sway. Things that had been vague sprinkles of colour – all-heal, birds foot trefoil, chicory – are becoming more prevalent. The clover I've been planting and the wild ginger are beginning to get a foothold. Periwinkle is beginning to find new spaces to colonize. The coltsfoot is moving from the spaces where I didn't want it to places it is welcome.

While its true that some of these things can be troublesome and aggressive, I welcome their movement. It means that the age of twitchgrass, where nothing else could gain a foothold is beginning to pass. Now, don't get me wrong – twitchgrass (which will have at least one, if not more, whole posts and articles written just about it) is an amazing plant. It does its job incredibly well, and in the twenty, or thirty or more years that it has been growing and dying here it has built some kind of organic matter into the soil. It has kept the soil in place and managed to thrive in spite of the rocks and poor soil. It has given me a foundation on which to build.

Many of the things I'm planting are also considered troublesome and aggressive. I'll admit that there are some that I struggle with – primarily my single horseradish plant which has become a multitude of horseradish with a root system to rival a network of city subway tunnels. Had I known how quickly it would establish itself and its dominance I would have made a different choice. I would still have planted it, but it would have been contained, and it would not have been put where it is. For now it is the subject of much amusement and a large expenditure of energy every year, but we never lack for its spicy leaves, or baby horseradish plants to give away, or its incredible roots. 

 

My comfrey has remained passive and contained, primarily because none of the land around it was accessible to its prolific blooms – the twitchgrass had barred all access. As that begins to change I'll need to be a little more on guard, and I've seen the beginning signs of that with a couple of small plants popping up in near proximity. There is no regret there though – at least not at this stage. It is so useful in creating fertile soil and nourishing the plants and trees, providing me with an absolute abundance of comfrey tea plant food, and will eventually become useful in other ways (when I have time.) All that and it is gorgeous to boot, so I don't begrudge the time I spend cutting off the blooms after the bees have had a go at them, and the pollinators really, really, really love it.

As I said, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted, and there has been a certain amount of semi-random plantings here, but what I (finally!) realized was that this space was easily enough to create a food forest/permaculture space that could become a haven. So I'm concentrating on perennials with some spaces and raised beds reserved for annual edibles. Most of the things I'm planting are edibles so that we can have an incredibly inexpensive source of dietary diversity and interest. Many of them that aren't edible have either properties that help the plants around them, or can be used medicinally, or can be used in Elfworks projects to provide dyes, inks, wood or fibre. Even those that I'm planting just for their beauty or interest will earn their keep, both by soothing my soul and being of photographic interest, as well as many being a food source for the multitude of insects and animals that help nature to do what it does.

I've think I've gotten in all the trees I was hoping for – with a little help from the birds and the squirrels, or at least almost. There are about 3 more that I'm planning on, but then I think I have to stop – not because I don't want more trees, but because I need to be sure there will be some amount of sun that reaches the yard!

With all the rain this year, the trees have all been doing very, very well. With help from my neighbour's horses, all of my trees have been getting a nice thick layer of mulch around them to help stop the twitchgrass trying to take them over and keep the moisture where they can use it. Renewing it a couple of times a season will also help give them some extra warmth through the winter. The area immediately around every tree now gets a healthy overseeding of red clover in the ring of the hole that has been dug. So far it is working, trees that were struggling are getting healthier – at least some of them. Trees that have struggled for over a decade (according to my partner) are beginning to grow and show signs that they are thinking about thriving.

That in turn gives me the hope and inspiration I need to keep digging, to keep up the hot, heavy short term work that will create a place that will be a relatively self-sustaining haven in the long run. I won't say I'm not disappointed with the fact that almost all the annual plants I put into the gardens this year got killed off by the rains and the snows, so we won't be getting much of a harvest this year. I'm looking at this year as a prep year – a foundation building year. The time I'd have spent canning and preserving will open up time for me to work in the forge and the tinshop, and get in a last round of digging before the weather shifts.

And so, the adventures continue...and now you can see the paths I'm walking. You are welcome to come along if you choose.