Living on a farm, it is impossible to ignore the legacy of the people who came before: the patina of time and the elements on the outbuildings,
and the many beautiful, handmade implements we find in odd places.
I feel a connection most strongly when performing the tasks traditionally left to the farm women: tending to my hens and collecting their eggs, making jelly from our 100 year old apple trees, and checking on the progress of the garden.
When I came home from work the other day, I found a jar of lilacs on the kitchen table, picked by my mother. I imagine a woman years and years ago, planting a cutting she'd got from a neighbour, just to make her front step look pretty. That cutting is now a veritable tree, beside the stone foundation where the original homestead stood.
It does not escape me that our stay here is temporary, and that by planting lupines by the farm gate, I send a message through the years to future homesteaders who might wonder about the woman who took the time to plant something just because it looks pretty.