I recently turned up a photo from earlier in the summer, taken at a friend's urban wildflower garden - about 1 month into the worst of this year's drought - right as mother nature was starting to show us all what 'lack' really means...
We urban and suburban homesteaders hardly suffered as much as many fellow Texas did this year. At our place, we didn't lose anything to wildfire, nor did we see our animals auctioned off at low prices because we couldn't afford to import hay. We did however lose a good deal of the orchard, and many new additions to the garden that were added this past spring. During the worst of it, I had my head down and faced the storm - dragging drip lines around hour after hour, a flock of chickens in my wake, and despite near constant water application to both plants and animals, we buried a few of our beloved birds. After the rain returned, we saw invasive pasture grass come up in beds over night where we have fought for years to eradicate it...
In the moment, none of that bothered me, and 'dig in' meant spending more than what was reasonable on water when it may have been best to replace some less tolerant plant varieties. But now, it seems to mean 'let it all go', as I look helplessly at dead trees and beds overflowing with cursed bermuda grass... Neither is an appropriate path...
This photo gives me hope -that there are answers, success stories, and options still out there. Our Bohemian Homestead may not be closer to the fully developed farm and sculpture garden we envision it to be some day, but then again, we didn't lose everything and we are quite blessed to still be experiencing a gorgeous fall... Drought, after all, is one end of a scale of measurement; much like the scale the stretches between 'keep digging endlessly deeper' and 'let it all go'. And as surprising as it was to be blindsided by the relentless heat and lack of rain, it is equally surprising to be surprised at all: extremes DO happen.
As challenging as it is for an idea hoarder to do, I have had to overcome the desire to hang onto what I think my garden and homestead SHOULD be. As willing as I am to accept 'messy', 'weedy', and 'unfinished', I never imagined working 'completely different design' or 'reinvented land use' into my mindset. Change is inevitable as we teeter back and forth upon multiple scales of life's measuring sticks - sometimes balanced, and other times tumbling toward one extreme or another... Regaining balance as we look toward the 2012 season means more rain barrels, more wildflowers, certainly more grasses, more soil improvement, and less fretting over the inevitable losses -particularly the loss of ideas. Ideas, after all, are easy to replace -as long as I can make room for "the new" by being willing to cull the hoard. This difficult exercise moves me closer to true bohemiana; for 'balance' and 'going with the flow' of change are central to a Way Kind Bohemian Life... Peace, love, and wildflowers!
