Farmers don’t need an active imagination to see the beginnings of life, everywhere we look we see evidence of the dream of the world. Spring brings us full circle, we have gone through the darkness of winter and now looking right, left or straight ahead, we see new life.
Green shoots of fresh grass, a few crocus blooming over there, ducks getting it on, eggs are filling up nest boxes, life is renewed. I feel it rising up in me and flowing like the seasonal spring in our lower pasture. I feel refreshed for a new beginning, anything is possible. Do you feel it, too?
In late February the filbert trees take a lead in the sexual gymnastics on the farm. The male flowers (catkins) begin to stretch out and turn bright yellow and if you look close along the branch-lets, you will see the tiny red hairs emerge from the female flower. The wind stimulates the male catkins, moving pollen to female flower. Here we see evidence that the dance of nature is fragile, yet goes on and on.
For you, here now, captured live the sexual exploration of the day, the beginning of a nut.
Okay, it still seems more winter like then spring, especially in the garden. That is why we preserve our parsnips right in the ground where they were growing last summer. Then in March or April, when we are craving something other then cabbage and winter squash there are these sweet yet musky treats. I like them cut like french fries, lightly oiled and salted and roasted in the oven letting some of the juicy sugars caramelize. My web guru told me about trying sublime vanilla parsnips, they sound delicious, pan fried with plenty of butter and finished with vanilla infused rum.