Summer on Brush Arbor Farmstead
a walk in the febrile summertide through a far-Northern California farmstead... hat and frosty beverage recommended
Each season is marked by its own disposition and distinctiveness. From the quiet, introvert of Winter to the hustling, harvester of Fall, their individual personalities are the character and complexion of our farming calendar. What we do and how we do it are intimately interwoven into the unique provisions and challenges of every season. The acorn drop of Autumn signals finishing time for feeder pigs, the cool of Winter beckons new litters of kits from the rabbits, and egg baskets overfloweth as Spring days grow longer.
In contrast to its milder counterparts, Summer tends to be quite heavy-handed in the administration of its decrees. As the sweltering sun asserts its dominion over these summer days, the animals and plants become increasingly dependent upon our constant attentiveness to their most basic needs. For example, when winter springs are flowing and rain is falling, water supply for the pastured animals is a non-issue. However, on triple-digit days of Summer, water trough checks every eight hours can be the difference between life and death for some species.
If I had to choose one word to epitomize the experience of Northern California (I’m not talking about the Bay Area here - this is the real NorCal, the part they don’t talk much about, in the far-northern Sacramento Valley up to the Oregon border) Summers on the farm, it would be “survival”. That may sound melodramatic, but if our summers have proven to be anything, it’s unforgiving. From heat waves, lightning strikes, and wildfires, to foxtails, parasites, and rattlesnakes, farming through our summers requires more intense levels of vigilance, perseverance, and stubborn determination – at times, just putting our heads down and grinding through ‘til Fall.
It doesn’t match the calendar perfectly, but in my mind, the Summer farming season is three months: June, July, and August. Though we still have a few warm weeks in September, by that time the days are noticeably shorter and our gaze is fully upon the bounties of Autumn ahead. In addition to keeping the animals healthy and comfortable, each month we have a pretty clear focus upon what we need to accomplish. Several important junctures throughout the rest of the year (such as Thanksgiving turkey harvest and lambing season), hinge upon proper timing and preparation over the summer.
June
Early in the morning we sneak out to the pasture where a five hundred pound animal lay flat on her side amidst layers of fresh straw, two feet deep. She is calm, her chest rhythmically rising with each satisfied respiration. She’s more comfortable than she’s been in weeks, the reasons for which soon nose their ways from beneath the hay. They emerge with a start and grunt, then scurry around to pile around mama’s neck for safety.
A happy sow with her piglets – there’s nothing like it. Days before she farrows, a good sow will build a nest. Given a quiet, secluded area, she will root and move straw with her mouth until she’s satisfied with her surroundings. It takes about 4 bales to create a nest of sufficient depth to safely house burrowing piglets.
Once the piglets are born, she will lay laterally in one place for hours on end while they nurse their fill and build their strength. Sometimes it’s a whole day after farrowing that she will first get up and change positions. This prolonged stationary state allows the piglets time to fill their bellies and acquire their characteristic speediness, helping to ensure they can effectively move out of the way of the sow to avoid being crushed.
When the sow does start to become active again, mainly back and forth between her feed and her nest, she will give special grunts as warnings to her piglets that alert them she’s about to get up or lay down. It’s both a beautiful, and slightly nerve wracking, sight to behold. When she returns to her deep bedding, she will root with her face into the straw, mumbling all the while to piglets who will obediently shoot out of her way as she begins her descent. First crawling with her forelimbs, then slowly lowering her hind end, she finally inches her massive body onto its side once more to allow the piglets to nurse.
This will be our final litter of piglets until Fall, as farrowing in the extreme temperatures of midsummer can put a lot of stress on a sow. Pigs born in early June will be ready for harvest late winter. Those born in the early Fall will be finishing the following Spring. A sow’s gestation is approximately 3 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days, so for September-October piglets, we breed a few of our sows in June. Artificial insemination (surprisingly simple with pigs) affords us several boars to choose from, while saving us the hassle of housing a boar on our property.
Throughout these sweltering months, the pigs seek reprieve in their wallows. If they find the depth or temperature of their muddy water insufficient, their powerful snout will soon upturn their water trough to refresh the pool. Running water of any kind is welcomed by hogs in the heat. Refilling their troughs might as well be a formal invitation for them to pay us a visit, slurp right out of the end of the hose, and goof around in the cold water before heading back to their mud. On especially broiling afternoons, a sprinkler in the pigs’ paddock will provide a constant source of cool water. Unable to sweat, pigs are inefficient when it comes to cooling their fat-covered bodies. Thus, the evaporative cooling provided by water and mud wallows is crucial as the mercury rises.
(While the following has generally been the rhythm of the laying hens, this severe drought year has eliminated our local irrigation water and thus the girls have remained home in the oaks. But I’ll tell you how we - and they - would rather it be anyhow, and hope it will be again in coming years.)
Late June is when the laying hens usually make their yearly migration from our hill property down to lush, irrigated pasture a few miles away. Only able to irrigate about two of fifty acres here, green forages dry up quickly once it gets hot.
At night, the flock perches inside their mobile egg unit, the “Cluck Wagon”. It’s essentially an old trailer that Tim converted into a chicken coop, complete with ventilated sides, a slatted floor, perches, and nesting boxes. Once they are tucked in for the night, the door is shut to keep them in. Early the following morning, the Cluck Wagon is hitched up to the truck and off we bounce down the road, looking like something reminiscent of the Beverly Hillbillies.
We drive them out into acres of beautiful cattle pasture, where they will act as the ever-grateful cleaning crew for the land, with outstanding eggs as a brilliant by-product. Solar-powered electric netting is used to make a paddock around their mobile coop, and will be moved to a fresh location about every two weeks.
The delight of first turning the chickens out onto the verdant field never gets old. With a chorus of coos and clucks, they fly through the door and immediately get to scratching and pecking through the tall grass.
From now until early fall, we will drive to this location to tend the laying flock every evening: delivering feed and fresh water, ensuring they have enough shade, and collecting eggs. Our children are especially fond of this daily ritual, as this farm belongs to their cousins and very best friends. So tending the chickens is less of a chore, and more of a party in the field – especially when the irrigation water floweth and there are water fights to be had.
A handful of rogue laying hens (i.e. those that refuse to stay with the rest of the flock) will stay on the farmstead all summer, cleaning up after the other animals and perhaps hatching a few chicks of their own. When a hen becomes “broody”, she will sit on a nest until she hatches chicks. While not necessary for them to do, we always love having a few broody hens on nests. When the chicks hatch, the true meaning of “mother hen” is played out in all its glory as she shepherds her little brood around the farm, ever watchful and protective.
July
While most creatures are motivated to find refuge from the swelter, not so are baby birds. Needing ambient temperatures circa 95 degrees, these little thermophiles relish the heat during their first weeks of life.
‘Round about the Fourth of July, we receive approximately 100 day-old turkey poults in the mail. A phone call from the post office lets us know they’ve arrived, and we rush to town to pick up chirping boxes of tiny, Broad Breasted White turkeys. Once home, each bird is removed from the box, introduced to water by dipping their beaks into it, and settled into the warmth of the brooder.
From now until six weeks of age, they are a high-maintenance bunch. We visit them several times a day to monitor brooder temperatures, water availability, feed and grit consumption, and general well-being of the birds. Requiring surprising amounts of protein in their diet, their game bird feed ration is supplemented daily with hard boiled eggs. For months prior I have been boiling, freezing, and stashing away batches of extra chicken eggs in preparation for growing turkeys. So each evening, eggs are taken out of the freezer to thaw for the next day’s feedings.
After six weeks, they are large enough to start their outdoor journey through the woods. Beginning in a special area in the creek bottom where we’ve been able to irrigate, they move into a grassy paddock surrounded by electric poultry netting which keeps them in and the predators out. A special shelter on skids, aptly named the “Turkoboggan”, will travel with them from paddock to paddock as they move and forage through the trees until late November.
August
In August, it seems most of our time is spent keeping everyone cool – or at least as cool as possible. Keeping troughs topped off with fresh water is a must, and we’re often out checking them several times a day. New shade cloths will be put up for animals with less tree cover, and sprinklers may be used a little more often to ensure the pigs don’t get overheated. The garden and fruit trees need more water, for which the ducks and dogs are most happy as they cool their heels in the short-lived puddles.
The rabbits are of special concern during these dog days of summer. The does are on hiatus through the warmer months, not required to do a darn thing but eat, drink, and relax. Cool, moisture-packed greens from the garden tend to be preferred over their regular fare. We house them in our most shaded areas, not allowing them to be in the direct sun. Shade cloths, misters, frozen water bottles, and cool dirt in which to dig, with the help of a lovely little breeze that comes up our back hill, all contribute to their comfort through this season.
With few projects needing attention this month, we’ll sometimes use the opportunity to brood a new flock of guinea fowl. Though their noise is a constant, we love them for their persistent patrolling which helps to keep rattlesnakes pushed to the perimeter of the property and out of the farmyard. Furthermore, ticks are a delicacy for them, which helps to keep the nasty pests off the animals (and humans!). Last year, timing was just perfect and a broody hen took to the young guinea fowl we were raising. She quite literally took them under her wings and raised them into adolescence. It was a wonder that dazzled me daily, and I hope to see it manifest again year after year.
[The article above was first published as one of four installments of A Sense of Place in Edible Shasta-Butte, where farmers open up their farms via the written word and give a glimpse into the seasonal cadence of their farming calendar.]
And as the smoky summer curtain draws this Northern California season to a close, I praise and thank the Lord for this fresh season of life - where I look forward to digging into some uncultivated territory here on the Stack and beyond.
As we hang up our sweat-stained hats and jingle the ice at the bottom of our now half-warm glasses, cheers from me to you friend. Thank you for coming along today.
How grateful I am to have you here, both at the end of this first little work, and out here…working with animals, working with our hands, working with all our hearts, and making a habit of it.
You are the BEST!!! at doing this mommy love YOU!!❤️Love the kids❤️😗😝😍
So cool. We Love you so much. 😘❤️ you are so great. 💗
Love,
Your ❤️Kids❤️