In June and July of 2002, in the Wrangell Mountains, I lived on 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night. I had never before experienced such long summer days and all that daylight was filled with summer employment and summer socialization. Things are different for me 17 years later. I would rather be asleep by 10 then watching the sun coming back up in the wee hours. Of course back then, I “only” had to go to work and who needed sleep for that? We have had a lot of visitors this week and instead of weeding and working in the garden, I have been freezing popsicles, making bbq dinners, and hanging up damp swimsuits and beach towels. The kids have been swimming in the lake and jumping on the trampoline. They have been laying in the sun reading books and creating elaborate games with their friends on the edge of the forest. This time of year they go a bit wild (no daily school schedule!) I have to help scrub their feet clean at night and they have not brushed their hair for days. The freedom of Alaska summers is truly a wonderful thing. Usually I get them into bed at a decent hour for summer but with visitors that often goes out the window and you can hear them whispering and giggling far past midnight.

We had our first truly hot weather this week and the kids had been looking forward to riding our working horses that we brought home last week, for 6 weeks of training, before they head north to hunting camp. But the heat brought out the horse flies and the horses were too agitated for inexperienced riders. When it cooled off at night though, the flies disappeared, and I found myself saddling horses at 10:30 pm for a night time ride with 4 kids. The quiet and cool calm of the nighttime after a hot busy day is quite a gift. I am glad that instead of being in bed I was out watching the glow of the sun setting behind the mountains to the northwest. The robins were singing and snowshoe hares were foraging. Our owls were out hunting to feed their owlets and there was no traffic on the McCarthy road. And it reminded me that there is nothing quite like the middle of the night when you are close to the summer solstice, especially when swaying in the saddle and listening to the clip clop of hooves.

Summer solstice is defined as when the sun’s zenith (overhead highest point) is at its furthest point from the equator. It is the longest day of the year in the northern hemisphere as well as the shortest night. And while many hot and summery days are to follow, it also marks the change from gaining daylight to decreasing daylight. I grew up celebrating winter solstice but usually I am too busy this time of year to do anything but contemplate that while it might officially be the first day of summer on the calendar, it is also the beginning of the descent into winter.

The plants in the gardens have been enjoying their (nearly daily) summer rain showers and are growing steadily. The trellis twine in the greenhouse needs to be strung as does the pea trellis. There is weeding to do and succession plantings to plant out and more trays to start. Now that the company is gone, it is time to get back to work!

In other farm/outfitter news, we just added two new mares to our string of horses. I did not get to meet them yet but they sure are gorgeous in the photos! No names, we will have to spend some time with them first.

• 

• 

I hope your gardens are growing, your flowers are blooming, and you are finding time to relax and enjoy this season amongst the busy-ness of warm weather projects.

Everywhere I look there is so much more color than three months ago. The morning skies have been a crisp clear blue this week with billowing sharp white clouds building over the mountains every afternoon. Often one of those white puffy clouds morphs into a dark gray squall and I can watch angled sheets of dark rain pour down on Iron Mountain while it stays sunny here on the lake but with the whipping winds and thunder bursts till the storm moves on. Closer to home, the new spruce tips have turned our evergreens a bright shade of spring green and the undergrowth of the forest is thick and lush and so, so green. It is difficult to fathom that so much has grown in two months.

There are blooms everywhere! Dandelions, lupine, and wild roses bring yellow, purple, and pink to the McCarthy roadsides. Iris, wild geranium, chives, borage, comfrey, and strawberry blooms are open in the perennial garden. So much purple this time of year! In the woods, the labrador tea looks like a pure white firework explosion. Tundra rose adds its yellow and bluebells their delicate purple to nature’s palette.

• 

• 

• 

• 

I am still plugging away in the garden but nearly done with planting. The green bean tunnel is up and 900 onions and 400 leeks are in. I started the trays of plants in late February and they grew and grew and grew. In previous years, my allium plant starts have been tender and spindly but finally I got my onion technique right (if only I could remember how!) and planted out strong healthy plants. I plant my leeks with a homemade dibble instead of the traditional trenching. I make 6 to 8 inch deep holes in three rows across my 36 inch bed. The plant is dropped into the hole and watered in. The holes will completely fill up over the next two months when hoeing for weeds moves soil around the surface of the bed.  They are harvested in September with a nice 6 inch blanched stem and many more plants fit into a bed with this technique.

The day I was planting the allium beds, last Saturday, the rest of my family were out and about engaged in other pursuits. It is a rare thing for me to be all alone on the farm, though “alone” is relative with 63 fowl, 1 dog, 1 cat, 1 guinea pig and 1 owlet. 1 owlet? Our nesting pair of great horned owls successfully hatched an owlet this year and it has left the nest. Nearly the size of its mother but fluffy gray with tiny horn tufts, it is a terribly awkward flyer and gives away its location with the great racket of snapping twigs whenever it attempts to land on a perch. The parents have hunted the garden clearing all winter and spring and left behind piles of owl pellets on garden beds and in the sandbox (located under a favorite aspen perch). I was a couple of hours into monotonous planting work when I heard a twig snapping nearby and looked around in alarm having forgotten to bring my bear pistol down to the garden. Two days earlier I had caught my first brief glimpse of the owlet. The parents communicate in growling hoots and barks so constantly I hardly even notice it anymore so I had not paid attention to the soft hooting throughout the day. But I was surprised to look up and see the owlet changing her (or his) position on a branch where he had been hidden on a willow at the edge of the north side of the garden about 30 feet away from me. She stayed there watching me for the rest of the day blinking one eye or the other, or both and craning her head around when I walked to the tote for more water. One of her parents flew in from time to time to check on her and glare at me and then back to the deeper woods. I planted, listened to a few podcasts, took photos, and planted some more. I spent the afternoon and early evening with this beautiful fluffy owlet watching me, napping, and watching me again. One of my hens decided to fly out of the pen mid afternoon and head over the last years pig pen site which would have brought her directly under the branch the owlet was perched. I was about to go herd her back when she spied the owl, turned around, and silently walked back and put herself back in the chicken pen. Smart girl!

There are now two owlets out of the nest and they are in a different place each morning when I go down to the garden. Their parents are quite protective and usually give away their position unintentionally with their warning hoots of “Human Approaching!” Tater’s back felt the sharp bite of an adult’s talons twice when unintentionally getting too close to the babies. He was just sore and bruised, no open cuts, but very confused as he had no idea what he did wrong. I am glad they have not seen me as a threat worth warning off! I have had many opportunities to share a glimpse of the owlets with visitors this week. Nothing can stare you down quite as well as an owl and I wonder what they think of me as they watch me work, or when I take a break and hoot softly at them. I feel incredibly lucky to get to spend my days in such close contact with so many birds: in the lake, in the trees, on the wing, and in the garden.

Because of the owls and other raptors, I strung up a mesh of fencing over the laying chicken pen and the temporary brooding pen of the three week old chicks. Yes, the chicks have moved outside and our home no longer smells of feather dust and poultry manure! The chicks adjusted well and have been enjoying having more space to run (and attempt to fly) around. I hate having to keep the layers confined in their coop and run. It gives them, and me in watching, so much joy to eat grubs and dust bathe and eat weeds. But there are too many predators this year to keep them safe and into lockdown they go. They have expressed their displeasure with me by a sharp decrease in egg production and I have been trying to appease them with lots of treats.

I harvested basil to make pesto (forgetting that I have no garlic) and transplanted new basil for later in the season. My succession planting never follows my carefully charted dates but something is better than nothing!

• 

• 

It is these kind of days, with time to let the brain ruminate while the hands are busy working, with wildlife flitting about everywhere, with colorful flowers dancing on the daily breeze, that time outside in the garden is truly joyful. And to add to that joy, our hunting horses are home for 6 weeks! We all look forward to this time of year when we get some horse time in. These guys are working horses, not pets, and we love them so much. Frank, Whisky, Moonshine, Copper, Taiga, and Earp are the 6 lucky ones we get to work with before they head up to hunting camp in July.

Till next week!