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Today as my soul breathed in the beauty and grace of this amazing place that we call home, I thought about how much I wanted to share this very special place, and this incredible life we are creating, with those who also hold a dream of leading a more authentic life, a more sustainable life – a sweet life.

For months I have been telling myself that as soon as I have time I’ll sit down to write…maybe tomorrow or the next day. I’ve managed to take photos of our journey but have just not had time to post them on a regular basis. We have been going nonstop to get, Alchemy Farm up and running. We had a blank, overgrown, slate to start with – so everything had to be done. Hugelbed, fruit trees, nut trees, berries, garden beds, compost, greenhouse, irrigation, farm stand, driveways, culverts, ponds, dangerous tree removals – the list just went on and on. And before that list it was making the house liveable, trust me, another huge list.

granny smithToday, for the first time since we began this incredible journey, it really began to feel like we are making progress. The irrigation system began swooshing it’s way across the gardens, water turned on in the greenhouse – there were actually some plants in the greenhouse! Blueberries are plump with promise, the apple trees are laden with beauty, the plum hangs heavy with fruit – and we picked our first cherries! I planted Black Beauty Zucchini and Spaghetti Squash in the Hugelbed and tomorrow more seedlings will be joining them. The blackberries are blossoming and filled with bees – from our hives.

Today, the clanking sounds of a tractor echoed through the farm, one of many busy tracing the contours of our Burgoyne Valley. The farm was a flurry of extra activity, preparing for the coming week. The carpenter was arriving in the morning to begin installing new stairs, doors and windows in the upper floor of the barn – my future studio space. The cement truck is arriving later in the week to begin pouring more concrete floors in the lower floor of the barn – home to the cold storage room and my husband, Robin’s woodwork shop.

Today, as the day ended, I took a break and walked down to the fields that the tractor had drawn over …

The soft purple light of evening washed over the hayed field. Daisies, buttercups, thistles and tall grasses lay down beside each other in soft waves of green across the fields. The cool dampness of evening approached – suspended, waiting for the sun’s final rays to disappear behind Mount Maxwell. The dogs rushed about excitedly nosing soft hills, playfully tossing grass in the air. The last time they were here they plowed across the fields making tunnels through a tall swaying ocean of green. I stood transfixed and gazed at the dark maroon maple tree – the beacon that first led me to this farm a year ago. It stood proud in the centre of the field. I was overcome with a sense of grace, a sense of deep belonging…a deep sense of awe and wonderment.

I am slowly becoming one with this land that beckoned me with its maple sentinel.