07/08/2026
There's something I've never shared with any of you before tonight.
Every single day, twice a day — morning and night, all year round — I fill every feeder and every ground station at Farmcastle. And every winter, I do something most gardeners would call "wrong." I don't deadhead. I don't clean up. I leave the seed heads, the spent blooms, even the dead stalks standing through the whole season, because every one of them is a feast for someone.
I've been quietly keeping a Merlin Bird ID app running almost every time I step outside, and over the three years we've been here, Farmcastle has now recorded 138 different bird species. A new lifer — a bird I've never heard or seen here before — genuinely ranks among the best days of my life.
This land is home to so much life I've never told you about. Multiple broods of babies this season alone from House Finches, Cardinals, American Goldfinches, Eastern Bluebirds, Mockingbirds, Blue Jays, Song Sparrows, Carolina Wrens, and a rotating cast of Pigeons who've clearly decided this is their forever home. A few different hummingbird species duel over the feeders all summer. And then there are the rare ones I still can't quite believe live here — including a Pileated Woodpecker I've named Maisy, plus a whole family of Downy Woodpeckers who work the tree line every day.
And yes — I have hawks. They have names too. They know this place is theirs as much as it's mine.
Next week marks three years since we took on Farmcastle, and we're celebrating with a full before-and-after look at everything this place has become — the remodel, the renovation, the ground-up work that turned bare grounds into the sanctuary you're seeing today. 138 species didn't happen by accident. It happened because we built a home that wildlife wanted to move into.
I built Farmcastle to be a home. I didn't expect it to become a sanctuary. But three years and 138 species in, I think that's exactly what it is.
Tonight I'm finally opening this door — pictures, reels, the whole world of it. Welcome to the wild side of Farmcastle.
(...and stay tuned — the birds aren't the only wild neighbors we've never introduced you to. Let's just say Farmcastle has a porch raccoon named Taz who eats out of my hand — and last fall, we had a skunk family who visited like clockwork every single morning, including one solid-white albino. That story's coming.)
