WOW! so that was inspiring
the photos below are also mental notes on what I saw. interplantings of asparagus and overwintered parsley, the colors of grains, the height of yakon (?), how little trellising scarlet runners need, the configuration of the open yurt meeting area, and lots of photos of pruning. Sam said "its hard when you're a greedy fruit-lover" to prune as hard early on as seems necessary for strong trees that are easy to harvest..
a few notes in no order: I was struck by how I was outside all day but never seemed to need my sunglasses even in the heat and open. The texture of the land must have made it so, in addition to its irrigated lush green, not the brown that stubbles our soil. I seemed almost always to need to step only a few feet in either direction for shade. I was struck by how many people live there without it seeming so. the simplest of dwellings were so cleverly tucked and slowly disguised. I was struck by Sam's enthusiasm and patience in his explanations of answers to the littlest of questions. Truly a loving teacher. I have made a major note of Dave's comment that the mild and even nature of their climate is peaceful no doubt, BUT many fruits don't ripen because they don't get enough heat. Dave was answering my question about whether or not my new sumac was going to self-sow. He said not likely because it needs more heat. Luke and I were comparing notes on temperatures this summer- while we have had at least 2 weeks of days in the upper 90s, they've had only a few in the lower 90's. certainly not around 100 like we have. Sam said their lowest low was 10. If I'm not really mistaken, the winter we were comparing (2 ago), Danny said that he had -10. I had 8" of frost heave that winter.
I have no delusions that everything is always peaceful there, but overall, the sense that I got was of a relatively relaxed and close-knit group. There was ribbing and the usual frustrations (someone not pulling their share, etc), but overall, I perceived a general peace and conviviality. Certainly I had a very hard time leaving, not just because of the sense of healing, but also wanting more time to enjoy forging what doubtless could have grown into real friendships. Despite Doug inviting me to remain, I still had get back to work. But, now I know that it is less restrictive than I'd thought re that. Brock from Alabama was a dear one, and remaining for a while. Some people impressed me more than others. Katie, Greg, Pete, Anna, Coulton. I write to remember names. Some seemed on a young idealism head trip (I can't throw stones at that). And I must remember accidentally hitting Doug in the eye with a hacky sack. terrible! I was aiming for someone behind him, secretly. Behind his slightly ever-stern demeanor, I could see the twinge of a smile on the underside of his white beard as I apologized repeatedly through the mirth. Later, he guided me towards the chinese herbs. thank you thank you!
I love the lack of detail on the website. How can a person even begin to explain what the hell is happening there? or map anything but the most major paths? It forced me to think through contingencies and then explore. I proceeded to do so upon my first arrival so early, but was circuitous, as usual, finding the property line first, then coming inward. that led me into the newer claimed areas not faring as well, and for a moment I wondered if I was in the right place. circling the ponds and "far far" gardens, I was absolutely bewitched by a sculpture garden of driftwood. Beguiled. lost-- I wandered more deeply. I did see a distant little house, and took a step further. Only then did I hear an unusual small sound, a knock. I stopped, saw the sun-darkened man without clothing standing in a nook of branches- beautifully raw. even an apology would have been further invasion- I turned, slowly and quietly wandered away..
later, we (most) all nude hopped in the sauna the rainy second night, and I was forced to tamp my desires. running to the pond, and watching them wrassle on the floating dock- what delight... what immense delight to spend time with these creatures in Eden. one climbs an apple tree for its fruit, so I am comfortable climbing the mulberry, and fall in love with that fruit, and the feeling of childlike simplicity. balancing myself and the basket of precious berries, bent on a task. depositing them on the kitchen table in a bowl of my own making as my afternoon's contribution. then finding the hammocks by the marsh and sliding so deeply into being there like I never really meditate- I am always somewhere else unless I'm at the wheel or deep in my own garden. I don't sit well, I don't do nothing well. But there in the hammock, I thought about nothing for almost an hour. The way the frogs blinked, the tail of the muskrat so upright, the dart of the dragonfly, and the willows so graceful...
that night (most visitors gone) they cooked venison (perfectly) with mushrooms, plum sauce, and I can't even remember, the selection of delectable greens is so long. Someone was dandied up in a house coat (swoon), someone was speaking warmly about queers (swoon). a little boxed wine. almost everything within 100' of the property, lets say. who needs walls on that kitchen? not they...
I had to leave. once I had gotten up, I could not stop walking for any reason. having reached my car, I made myself turn the key. Having started the car, I had to drive it. I broke down on the ferry- staring at the sunset and then the moving water of the prop wash. my eyes grew accustomed to the motion of the prop wash over time so when I looked back at the sunset, the clouds suddenly seemed to reach quickly towards me, from Orcas towards me in a quick fuscia hug before my eyes settled into that pattern and the clouds relaxed again into their incremental motion. that's when I broke.
I'm going to do this, alone if need be. But damn it sure would be nice to have a friend to enjoy Eden with... I'm home now, and I visit the area of sloped and graded grass where I plan on making a swaled in-ground nursery. so much work. I sit, curled, in the grey light, planning apathetically. I know that once I get under my own momentum, I'm a bit of a perpetual motion machine. but right now... I need to go make pots anyway... that's what pays the bills..