Not Quite Spring~

For some weeks, in the middle of the month, we had many days of sun, and the mornings were honey coloured, and the sky through the firs was luminous.

And we had purple crocus popping up near the garden gate.

And on warm afternoons the bees would fly, and there was hazel pollen to gather.

And one afternoon, I made a little bouquet of snowdrops and pussy-willows and brought it into the house, in a little clay vase, that I got from a local pottery sale.

And one weekend, Katie and I got so inspired by the light and the warmth, that we got to preparing the veg-plot for spring planting.

We even rented a rototiller to save my good back (for normally we turn the garden soil by hand, and it takes many long back-aching days, but after more than a decade lifting beehives, my dear old back is asking me to find gentler ways).

And the sun shone down on us while we worked, and the pair of us had a grand old day in the earth.

And after just one day of work (as opposed to 5) the garden was ready for planting.

And then, two nights ago it snowed, and in the morning, everything was white again.

And so it would seem that it is not quite spring after all, and this being the case, we have decided put our shovels down for the time being, and patiently wait a few more weeks for spring to officially arrive.

Of course there is one member of Honey Grove who is positively thrilled with the blanket of white out there, and you can surely guess who that is, for snowy days mean long walks in the woods, and afternoons spent sleeping by the fireside, and there is really nothing much better than that now is there?

Until Spring Then~

Nao, Mark, Cohen, Katie, Gus and All at Honey Grove.


Oh June~ How beautiful you are.


These are the golden days, they are long and abundant and sun infused. There are strawberries, lots of strawberries, and there are salads with flower petals, for dinner.


And bouquets on every table and windowsill.


There are roses rambling along the fence line and growing up the wall of the old wooden shed near the garden gate.


There are bees flying and flowers blooming and the whole of Honey Grove hums from dusk to dawn. Bees on phacelia, bees on clover, bees on blackberry.


And sometimes the only thing to do is to pause there in your busy day, and to go and watch them gathering the sweetness of the season, to sit there amidst the hum and the honey smells, under the solstice sun.


And while the bees are flying, the garden is growing.


And Mark’s Mum and Dad have once again come all the way from England for their annual June visit, and as usual, they have wasted no time in getting straight to work; helping us in countless ways. With their help we have net the blueberries and the currents, and perhaps this year we will get a few berries before the robins eat them all!


And Marks Mum and I have worked together to tie a wild tangle of garden peas.


And Marks Dad (a retired horticulturist and my exceptional gardening teacher) continues to teach me about the secret life of green and growing things as we walk through the garden every evening after supper.


And oh the things I learn about leaf miners and mulching and carrot-root-fly!


And while I am having my evening lessons, Mark and his Mum are going around the lower field on”slug patrol,” gathering the garden slugs with bucket and trowel and offering them to the ducks, who eagerly await their return each evening.




And we all have a lot of fun too!


And when they are not helping us in the garden, you will find them helping Mark in his new bakery, which is coming along beautifully.


Yes, Mark has rather fallen in love with his new work-space and the inspiration is flowing once again. He has even started making pain d’epi, and look how beautiful they are. I mean just look.

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And here you can see his shiny Italian oven in action.


And at last he is able to make it out to some of the markets, which his Mum and Dad have been helping him with, when I am too busy at the farm.


Meanwhile, Cohen and Katie are as busy as the bees working at the local vineyard and preparing wonderful things to eat for all of their summer visitors. And when they are not running to and fro, they are down by the river, trying out their superpowers.


As for Gus, he is spending his days meditating in the daises.


And swimming through ponds of lilies.


And reminding all of us to savour these sweet days of summer.

With Gratitude for your Company~

Nao, Mark, Gus, Cohen, Katie and all at Honey Grove

On Endings and Beginnings

And so it is that all things appear green and growing once again. There are apple blossoms on the orchard trees.


And tulips in the garden.


There are dandelion leaves for supper and one hundred shades of green that cloth the land in all directions. There is bird song in the morning of an orchestral nature, and there are bees humming through the afternoon. There is life.


And where there is life, then there must also be death, for these are two parts of the same whole, or so the wise ones say. I mention this now because it feels important. Walking down to the garden barefoot after the long winter I find myself standing on the threshold of another spring, and as I come through the garden gate I am in deep awe of this recognition, that life brings death, and death brings life. For the first time it is a felt sensation, and the awareness is alive in my whole body, no longer just an idea, but a pulsing living truth. And those roses, the ones rambling along the old fence, the ones I love so much, they are nourished by the compost of decay.


Yes, it seems that everything is dying into life, the seed to the plant, the plant to the flower, the flower to the fruit, the fruit to the seed, and on it goes, a big mysterious and unbearably beautiful cycle.

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Before me, in the soft light of dawn, my eyes rest upon the various gardens that I have planted in honour of the ones that I have loved and lost over these past years. On this new day I am struck by the beauty that they offer the world. I am awed by the life that has grown out of death. And oh the love that swells in my heart to see those blooms, and the tears that come.

Over the past two years, 7 beloved people in my life have passed away. Some of them dear family members, some beloved friends and some profound teachers. I have heard that sometimes it goes this way, and over the last short while, it has been this way for me. I am not sure why I have chosen to write about these things today, for it is not my usual style to share the more difficult aspects of being alive. Someone, not long ago, said to me, “you are always so cheerful Nao, does everything always go your way? The question found me speechless and for a moment I was unable to respond. This must have concerned my well meaning friend, for she then said, “no, I mean this as a compliment, you are always so happy, you are so lucky, good things happen for you.” And I had to laugh then before there was anything to say, because I was thinking to myself, oh goodness, what sort of impression am I giving the world? And even writing this now, sends me into fits of uproarious laughter, for although I do feel lucky and although many good things do happen, they really do, it is, I promise you, not the only way it goes for me, although my cheerful smile can deceive even myself at times.

Cheerfulness, for me, is a kind of well developed muscle, and it is very different from happiness which swoops down on a regular basis and cracks my heart open in surprising and unexpected ways. Happiness happens every morning when I let my ducks out of the coop and they race across the paddock to their pond wagging and quacking like upright wine bottles on legs. I am not sure why this is so funny to me, but every single day it takes my legs out and I find myself cackling like a wild witch at the edge of the wood in sheer delight of ducks. And when I go back toward the house to put the kettle on, holding big green duck eggs in my hands, what I feel, is happy.


Cheerfulness is also not Joy, and Joy (according to the mystics of the world) is always present, unbounded and infinite, our true nature as the Buddha says. Yes, cheerfulness it is another creature entirely, and one that I would like to put to rest, for the effort that it can be to maintain, oh heavens above! I mean what a lot of work, the sheer athtleticism involved is really too much sometimes. Yes, this cheerful muscle of mine is perhaps a wee bit over-worked, and the truth is, even here in blog land, my posts are geared toward sparkling representations of the many good and new things unfolding, but today, these two things no longer feel separate, and I can feel an urge toward wholeness, toward offering you a more rounded-out glimpse of farm life. In the midst of all the life and growth here at Honey Grove, there has also been loss, 7 significant endings, and these came before some of the beautiful beginnings.


One such beginning is the opening of Mark’s new bakery, which he moved into just three short days ago. He is now baking beautiful bread in his shiny new Italian oven. And although it will be sometime before he is running at full capacity, he is at last working from his new space! We will continue to sell our bread at the farmers market, and it won’t be long before you will find us in the local health-food store too. We will keep you posted over the next month as to how things are unfolding.


And while Mark is baking bread for the market, Katie is baking muffins, savoury and sweet varieties which are incredibly delicious and nourishing too. Do try one next time you are at the market, you won’t be disappointed, I promise. They are wonderful!

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And when she is not in her kitchen creating a thousand inspired things or teaching the local people of this country community how to make pasta and pair wine, she is out in the woods collecting elder flowers for elder flower syrup.


As for me, I am far from the kitchen and have moved back into the garden almost full time.


I spend my days planting and weeding and mulching, and these days, I am lucky enough to be picking tulips alongside my beloved dog friend, who is convinced that everything I do is wonderful. Bless him. I feel the same way about him.


And there will be tulips at the Market for another week!


And while I am putting tulips into colourful bouquets, Cohen can be found in the shop, or behind a skill saw at 7 in the morning, or swinging a hammer with a pencil tucked behind one ear and tape measure in his pocket. For while his salumi cures in the cellar, he has graciously accepted the roll of Honey Grove builder, and for this we are all grateful.

Otherwise, when we are not digging earth or mixing dough, or sawing wood, we are all of us, processing 7 cords of firewood for next winter, which is quite the job and causes every muscle in the body to ache. Still though it has to be done and the thought of a blazing wood fire on a cold winters day really does help keep the momentum going.

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Well, I must pause there, for the sun is up now and the another day is before us. I best be off, the rooster is reminding me it’s time to get the chickens up.

May this find you in the midst of a beautiful day~

Nao, Mark, Cohen, Katie, Gus and All at Honey Grove