The title of this post seems somewhat precise compared to my usual organic style.
And there's a reason. For I wrote about this same subject last year and I probably will next year too!
Working the land as I do, the seasons shape my life more than ever before. Each has its merits, each has its problems. But there's no point moaning about the heat in summer, the wind in autumn or the cold in winter. They should be embraced, as long as they're not too extreme.
As the seasons cycle by, I have found it more difficult to blog this year as I seem to be in constant danger of repeating myself. Having said that, I enjoy this annual cycle. I look forward to the first frost, I look forward to sowing seeds in spring, to earthing up potatoes, to the first rhubarb, the return of the swallows to their nests, long summer evenings, harvest time, Autumn gallivanting after rare birds and, dare I say it, the first frost come round again.
So it was that one morning this week I stepped out of the door and the crisp air instantly invigorated my lungs. A frosty morning means clear skies, still air and a beautiful winters day.
These winter frosts are welcome. They get rid of nasty diseases and they break up the soil. They sweeten up the parsnips and take the bitterness off the kale. They announce a fine day - it may snow but it probably won't be a soggy day.
Come May, I won't be waxing lyrical about Jack Frost any more, for he'll be threatening my young seedlings and stopping me planting my beans and squashes outside.
But, for the moment, winter is here and I'm looking forward to it. I'll have to find a good way to fill those long, dark evenings in front of the fire. I've got lots of projects in the offing and now I'll have some indoor time to get them rolling.
|Not the sharpest of frosts, but the first of the winter.|