One of the positive outcomes from leaving Lovin' Mama early is that I can focus on my new, yet-to-be-named farm project.
I decided that one of the first steps in preparing to farm would be to perform a soil test. The vineyard is certified organic, but this plot hasn't been farmed in 15 years. I find it curious that it was simply left empty. When were the vines put in? Why was this space left empty? A part of me fears that there's some obscure, virulent disease that haunts this plot.
I intended to take soil samples immediately after moving my things. I set a date. That day happened to be the first rain we've had in months. Light sprinkles came down as I drove through the vineyard, which turned to a foggy drizzle as I approached my plot. The crusty rubber windshield wipers blurred the view of the plot, but I instantly registered a major difference in the soil: it was black. I blinked a few times, rocked side to side to get a better view through the window. I even considered that this wasn't my plot but a recently uprooted vineyard area.
No, no, I was at the right place. I parked the car and immediately stepped out from behind the hazy windows and lenses. I widened my eyes as I got out in order to infallibly see the condition. I stood, stunned, at the edge of an endless stretch of charred earth.
Eventually, I motivated myself to move. I needed to see the end of the burn. Four acres passed until I reached the end of my plot, but the scar continued southward. I felt surprised to see that the fire primarily affected my plot and, most of all, that no one mentioned this to me. What could I do?
I decided to take a soil sample anyways. Six inches down with a crappy shovel that bent at the tip when I tried to break through the hard, compacted earth. Note to self: get a solid shovel. I had to get enough soil at the same depth from multiple points to get a representative sampling of the field. The rain fell harder, but the soil got no softer.
I decided that one of the first steps in preparing to farm would be to perform a soil test. The vineyard is certified organic, but this plot hasn't been farmed in 15 years. I find it curious that it was simply left empty. When were the vines put in? Why was this space left empty? A part of me fears that there's some obscure, virulent disease that haunts this plot.
I intended to take soil samples immediately after moving my things. I set a date. That day happened to be the first rain we've had in months. Light sprinkles came down as I drove through the vineyard, which turned to a foggy drizzle as I approached my plot. The crusty rubber windshield wipers blurred the view of the plot, but I instantly registered a major difference in the soil: it was black. I blinked a few times, rocked side to side to get a better view through the window. I even considered that this wasn't my plot but a recently uprooted vineyard area.
No, no, I was at the right place. I parked the car and immediately stepped out from behind the hazy windows and lenses. I widened my eyes as I got out in order to infallibly see the condition. I stood, stunned, at the edge of an endless stretch of charred earth.
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| South-facing |
I decided to take a soil sample anyways. Six inches down with a crappy shovel that bent at the tip when I tried to break through the hard, compacted earth. Note to self: get a solid shovel. I had to get enough soil at the same depth from multiple points to get a representative sampling of the field. The rain fell harder, but the soil got no softer.
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