The Middle Road: Half Moon Newsletter

Half Moon? What!? Why?
So many others do bimonthly newsletters on the Full and New Moon. They always get the attention. They always get the fandom. They always get the importance. The Half Moon, also called quarter moon, but when you look at it with your actual eyeballs it isn’t quarter, its half! (it’s a celestial pet peeve of mine) Half Dark. Half Light. And each switching sides every time. One time growing in light, the other time growing in dark. It isn’t the pause between the inhale and the exhale, it *is* the inhale and the exhale. It is the middle road. 

After the initial joy and wonder of the first snowfall and the magical times of the holidays are done and even though the sunlight begins to return, this is when the winter doldrums set in.

The chores that are mandated by the cold, chopping firewood, feeding the fire, clearing paths and cars and roofs and feeders and fences and walkways no longer feel like a 'want to do' but a 'have to do'. Defrosting windshields, putting on layers (and are they the right layers for our changeable weather?), and the bother of driving on icy, wet, snowy roads all lead to the feeling of being stuck.

​​Stuck in place and stuck in time.

​It's easy to keep to our well worn paths, those paths that we shovel, snowblow, or plow to clear. With every shovel thrown to clear the paths around the farm, I also end up building the edges higher. The clearer I make the path, the more bound into that shape, layout, roadways I become. Unless I want to mount up and break trail, sometimes falling through, sometimes balancing atop a snowpack that I may be unsure of (essentially thin ice over snow cone crystals), I must stay on the easy path.

​And was that path easy? It took work before to make it easy now. Hours spent shoveling after every snowfall. Hours that my shoulders feel, my back feels, my knees feel. So that now I can walk easy.
Making sure I got out to tidy the path when the rain comes to soften and slump the snow, especially before it refreezes overnight into chunks of ice. Convincing myself to leave the warm comfort of my couch or computer chair when all I want to do is stay inside and not have to put on layers of jackets, hats, gloves, and boots for the weather (sometimes cold, sometimes wet) because I know it will be oh so harder once it refreezes.

​You may feel bound by your path that you’ve spent years shoveling. It feels easy to keep pacing back and forth, forgetting all the work you spent shoveling. It feels easy to keep pacing back and forth on the well worn road, when all that shoveling has built high walls and the surrounding snowpack feels unstable.

​It feels easy to stay on the safety of the trail, until you see the snowshoes sitting in the corner. Sometimes that little boost, to not fall through the snowpack, to lessen the struggle on the pathless road, is all we need. And, honestly, a few well placed scraps of wood, like a few stepping stones across a fast moving stream, can help you onto the unplanned path. Or maybe a friend with bigger feet to break the trail. 

​Farming was not the path I planned for myself nor is it an easy one. 
I've tried following the path of others, the well worn path that was cleared before I even thought about stepping foot on it, one that others did the work to clear. But once I placed my foot, I found that the easy road, the tried and tested methods of growing, selling, and production was too well worn for me. 

Because, I like the work of clearing a trail, shoveling a path, opening a road.

​For when I took a moment to set aside my notions of success, my assumptions, and my best laid plans, I saw other roads, other paths. Some are weedier and more overgrown than others. Some are fresh and new, if less traveled. And some are ancient, forgotten paths that are so worn into the body of the earth that we sometimes walk on them without even knowing. 
These are the paths that lead into both the internal and external wilderness. That place in our soul that wants to howl at the moon, speak the language of trees, and wander with wonder.
This is the time of year I use that feeling of stuckness, of being too comfortable on the easy path as a push to break free from old habits and past assumptions, and journey into the wilderness.
It's when I find the middle road.

Future Learning Opportunities
Are you ready to step into the wilderness?

Saturday, March 4th: Free the Seeds in Kalispell
I'll be giving a presentation on Edible Garden Weeds: The Accidental Harvest.
Stop by for all the free presentations, info booths, and, of course, free seeds!

Tuesdays in May: Troy Adult Education Program
I'll be teaching a Spring Wildflower & Native Plant ID class on Tuesday evenings in May and early June. Two indoor classes to cover the basics and two outings to meet all the wonderful spring plants around Troy. Sign-ups to be announced later.

Seasonal On-Farm Foraging Classes: Dragon's Breath Farm
Come learn about commonly available seasonal edible plants in our region. We'll meet the plants, learn about their edible and also medicinal qualities, proper foraging etiquette, and taste the wonders of the wilds. I'll be updating the schedule as we get closer to spring.

Where to find it all?
Mini Microgreen Market on Thursdays at the Libby Area Chamber from 12-1pm.

Seeds are available to ship with so many new products coming soon!