Left with the Care of the Farm The banty rooster’s strident call is light years from grinding war, spinning news, suspicions of sects and warring politicians. His raucous bluster reminds me of a push-button toy gargling squawks only a child enjoys. A hawk whistles across the pasture. The rooster heard it, a wild away. He […]Read more "Left with the Care of the Farm"
Growing up in Maryland we simply referred to the homestead of our family friend as “the farm.” When I was a kid, the farm had horses for us to ride, hay lofts, cherry trees, sweet corn, and grape vines. On the farm “there are so many different environments, upland, lowland, stream-side, thick humus,” my father explained […]Read more "My Father on Foraging for Ramps"