Darkness is food for light

I often find that once I accept that something has failed, I am filled with new inspiration about what I can do instead.  This was the case with the Maris Widgeon disaster.  I wonder now if mice were the culprits.  I discovered that heavy rain had dislodged the grains in my test sowing in the garden at home, so they were exposed.  It would be easy for mice to quickly polish them off, and be encouraged to dig for others under the soil. 

I've now placed the tray in the greenhouse for extra protection, as it's still cold enough in there.  I am determined to grow this wheat.  I feel a kind of responsibility, as it is becoming rare, and is a traditional variety that deserves to survive. 

So now I have a large area of soil with nothing growing in it.  What an excellent opportunity to have a massive bonfire.  Nothing better to cleanse the space, which still has an unsettling, spirit dulling quality about it. 

It may simply be to do with the shadow cast by my small shed, now reinforced by the large shed behind it in the neighbour's plot.  In terms of Feng Shui, these structures are blocking the flow of energy.  I would reposition my shed, but it wouldn't remedy anything now the other shed is behind it, blocking the light from the south.  It is not something I have the power to change, so I have to work around it, and do as much space clearing as I can. 

There are some branches that need to come off the aspen neighbouring my long allotment.  It is a beautiful tree, and I feel is a kind of guardian for me and my land, but it is leaning too far into the plot, so it is shading the areas where I grow things.  It always amazes me how massive branches are when they are on the ground, compared to how they looked when up on the tree.  The would-be wheat field will be the ideal place to burn what I don't repurpose from this trimming, plus a lot of the old wood I still have in my shack. 

In fact, the whole shack needs burning to be very brutal.  It is appropriate to be so at this time, when new life is forcing its way through the old.  It is rotting and gradually more and more of it is falling off.  It still has its quiet protective spirit though, so I can't really bear to part with it.  Maybe I'll just adopt a Japanese perspective.  When they build a new building to replace an old one, and that building is exactly the same, they do not consider it to be a new building at all. 

The failure of the wheat also means I now have an opportunity to experiment with other spring sown grains.  I am interested in growing quinoa and amaranth, and there is spring triticale and rye if I can organize sourcing it in time.  I won't cover any of the area in black plastic that's for sure, but if necessary will use Phaecelia as green manure.  It is such a pretty blue flower, and forms a dense cover very quickly.