05/08/2025
During these final days of winter milk, I can't help but feel loads of nostalgia and appreciation for this beautiful food. No small feat, we made it to spring!
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I live for pasture season. Spending the entire day moving fences to unify the elements of animal, vegetable, carbon, sun and rain. Seeking alignment with natures perfect design. Like everyone, I celebrate the many different 'milks' of the grazing calendar. Such as the sour grassiness during peak dandelion season, the sweetness when the earliest red clovers blossom, and the richness just before the first frost. Experiencing these daily subtleties is truly the joy of being a herdswoman.
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But my sincerest appreciation for this whole song and dance comes in winter. When the cows are snug in the barn. And the bulk tank is full with this fresh and fulfilling source. When it was 20 below, with snow piled up, and the power was out these girls still gave their all. The true provider, the ultimate giver of life when all else is locked up in permafrost. There is so much comfort and security and gratitude in that. It's enough to make a person want to dedicate their entire life to it.
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Manure has been spread, rain has come, and now we wait for the sun. We are greasing the gears and honeing the blades for another season of harvest. Another turn of the circle. The hope is that in 6 months, there will enough hay stored away to put some milk in the pail when we depend on it the most. Not the sexist milk, but for me easily the most treasured.
