A week of lower temperatures reminds us that Summer is aging into Fall. This can be a difficult time for gardeners who follow the traditional garden in the spring and summer. Sometimes we need a reminder that the change of seasons is natural, that fall and winter bring us spring and summer.
For me, that reminder came in the form of a visit to Arthur Duckworth’s Apple Orchard Farm with the Gaston County Gardeners. This is no “hobby farm”, it is a self-sustaining farm—meaning that the farm pays for itself and is not subsidized by a “real” job or a family trust. Visiting this farm was very much like the southern tradition of Home Coming to me in that I grew up on such a generalized farm and when I left home I moved to a beef cattle farm in which the cattle were fed hay from the same land in which the animals were pastured on a rotating basis
Mr. Duckworth’s love for his work was apparent as he patiently explained the process of working with bees. He described the roles of different bees in the hives and since the majority of the group were women, we were amused to learn that all the worker bees were female, that the drones (males) were used only for reproduction, and that the worker bees chewed the wings off the drones and removed the drones from the hive at the appropriate time. The men in our group were understandably less amused.
Even though the summer garden at Apple Orchard Farms was ending, it was obvious that the garden had produced well. Much research and care was implemented to create a soil mix and a garden plan that was environmentally and productively sound. In fact, there were still plump tomatoes hanging from staked plants.
All of the farm’s pork, eggs, and beef are free of hormones and antibiotics. The Master Garden group was delighted to see several baby pigs even though the smell of the hog area was less than delightful. We saw cattle grazing in a pasture and heard the cackle of the free-range chickens. Mr. Duckworth sells the eggs but leaves the production of the actual chickens to one of his neighbors.
As our group toured the farm, I felt a curious sense of peace. Here was a farm that was managed efficiently but with much pride and commitment. There was a time for every purpose on the farm. Seasons were a natural component, each one making preparation of the next growing year. The manure and plant refuse from one year was the compost that enriched the soil for another year. In other words, a good farm is one in which nothing is stagnant, each tiny task or action is the basis of some future success. This fact makes my fall blues seem trivial and self-absorbed. Perhaps this year I’ll contemplate the larger design, the ebb and flow of the seasons, and the wonder of God’s grand design.
