Springtime on the Farm

 

March 24, 2019

It seemed natural to relocate to Newberg, Oregon in September.  We were five months pregnant, about to start our eighth vintage of winemaking, and ready to plant seeds and put down roots for our newlywed life.

Our son was born in January.  We hibernated all winter during his fourth trimester and planned for our year ahead – for our homestead, our wine business and our child’s life.

As spring is now opening up beautifully like the delicate, sweet scented blossoms of our hazelnut and pear trees, we are already reaping the benefits of our decision to live in wine country.

Here, there’s a spirit of doing things the hard and true way – following tradition, putting in an honest day of work, taking one’s time to follow the natural flow of one’s environment.  It’s easy to slip into the comfort zone of convenience, modernization and innovation to work smarter not harder.  And I certainly take advantage of some of those tools with running the operations for my business.  However, at home there seems to be a gentle ambiance allowing for something else, something that invites us to harken to the natural, slower rhythms of our farmstead surrounds.  We have a stunning hazelnut farm on the other side of our fence that leads the eye up to a panoramic view of the Chehalem Mountains – a place where world class vineyards thrive in the southeast facing sun.

Down here, in what the locals know as the Chehalem Valley, we have fragrant dirt, gentle breezes, various birds that co-mingle, and lovely roads that meander up into the hills.  It’s a pretty little place on the way to other significant wine country surrounds like the Dundee Hills and Yamhill-Carlton AVAs (American Viticulture Areas).

We have found our perfect little “acre farm”, as we call it, and it has been a blessing to wake up to a cool, dewy field with low hanging fog stretched out and into the rolling green rise of the Chehalem Mountains.  It is as quiet and gentle as the misted rainfall.  And when it is bright and gleaming from sunbursts it a pastoral sight fit for a storybook.

Sowing seeds and planting something real – a garden, a dream, a life – is something you cannot exist without once you’ve committed to it.  I’ve grown to love my husband and myself in new ways – an unexpected harvesting of the feels.  It’s purity is like the star material in the soil, since all matter was created from the death of stars.  It feels cosmic and relative.  Certainly a gift that keeps giving from the universe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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