Something Wild Farm

10/18/2025

SWF TV EP 3

10/13/2025

Sir, we remain weary.

10/11/2025

https://www.somethingwildfarm.com/post/i-quit-social-media-and-made-friends-with-a-spider

I shut it all off on July 1st and went outside. Long, slow walks around the farm pastures with eyes down toward the edge of the fields, looking for purple, looking for yellow. Things to tincture, things to infuse, things to spit out and things to chew. And nowhere to post pictures I wasn’t taking....

09/22/2025

First frost on the last day of summer

09/19/2025

"We are on Galehead Mountain today for a few reasons: it’s an easy-ish ten-mile round trip adventure for the dogs; and I want to reminisce the trail and memories with my dad. The farm is taking a break and I want to enjoy the summer in the mountains. Andddddd I need an excuse to go get Super Secret Ice Cream in nearby Bethlehem....."

I turn onto the road at Five Corners, halfway between Cannon and Carroll. Just past the bridge over the Gale River for the aptly-named Gale River Trail. The trail my dad and I parachuted down twelve years ago when we abandoned our ill-fated Appalachian Trail adventure. I think about this fateful cor...

09/17/2025

September sunny

09/11/2025

Bring the wild inside.

06/14/2025

https://www.somethingwildfarm.com/post/epilogue-i-ate-roo

When the trailer backed into the driveway, it was a long, violent rooster crow that pierced the quiet countryside, declaring that Something Wild Farm was open for business. Roo was big and angry and arrived on the farm with half a dozen hens and sawed-off spurs. Kay could only handle him with muck b...

05/17/2025

https://www.somethingwildfarm.com/post/au-revoir-sheep

The sheep are gone; the chickens are gone. It’s me and Wilder and Pip and the high noon sun. I’m sitting on the back porch, writing sweaty words into my moleskine, drinking hot coffee emotionlessly and staring at the dead elms I need to chop down into pastures I’ll need to mow. Or as they say ...

05/10/2025

https://www.somethingwildfarm.com/post/hiatus

The view from the rickety back porch in April is dire. I can see the snow-capped slide of Whiteface through the budding trees, the pasture looks barren and brown and pock-marked with last fall’s chicken dust baths. Piles of wood chips – hawthorn and poplar and blackberry – from November. Pleas...