Mud, Eggs and Returning Light: March on Small Scottish Farm
This March at Morningside Farm feels like living in two seasons at once.
The light is returning, slowly but noticeably now. In the mornings the sun rises earlier creeping up the eastern horizon through the silhouettes of the old oaks. By tea time there’s still a little brightness left in the sky. You can sense the shift happening, even if the weather hasn’t quite caught up yet. As I sit here writing on the morning of Friday 13th, I can hear the garden birds chorus despite the snow flurries.
This last winter has seemed long and relentless for me. The ground is thick with mud, the sort that clings stubbornly to boots and somehow finds its way into every room of the house. Every trip outside requires wellies, waterproofs, puddle suits and gloves. Paths, fields, lawns and the lane seem to have been quagmires for months.
Inside the house the rhythm of things has been a little unsettled too. The children have been taking turns being poorly, which always seems to happen just as the seasons begin to change. Days that were meant to be productive become quieter instead — cups of tea, warm blankets, and slow afternoons by the fire spent making sure everyone is resting and recovering.
Meanwhile, the hens, ducks and geese have very clearly decided that spring has sprung! Eggs are appearing everywhere. The nesting boxes are full each morning and there are ‘secret’ nests popping up in sheds, flower beds, the log pile and even the seat of the lawn mower. The kitchen counter has slowly filled with bowls and baskets of them. It’s the sort of abundance that always feels slightly surprising after the quieter winter months. For a while the birds lay so little, and then suddenly there are more eggs than we quite know what to do with. Not a bad problem to have, really.
The geese are following their faithful seasonal routine; the first goose egg arrives between 18th-20th February each year. The new Cayuga ducks black, blue eggs have been a joy to see, and the wee bantam green eggs are like little jewels in the straw.
Within the honeybee hives I can hear and feel the bees readying for the warmer days. When the wind drops and the chilly Scottish sun shines, tiny girls appear at the hive entrance to take a ‘cleansing’ flight and stretch their wings. The ‘undertaker’ bees remove the dead and clean the hive in readiness for the colony to start to grow again. If I put my ear to the warm wood, I can hear the hum of thousands of tiny wings keeping their Queen and sisters warm through the still frosty mornings.
Between caring for the animals, navigating muddy paths, and tending to poorly children, I’ve also been spending much of this month planning the upcoming wellness events and retreats and developing the new business. If I am honest, it hasn’t always felt easy.
Learning new skills, building websites, developing content and trying to understand the world of online software often feels quite unnatural to me. My instincts are much more at home outdoors – tending the fields, woods and animals. The digital side of things can feel like a very different landscape. But there’s also something deeply rewarding about it. Slowly learning how to bring an idea into the world, step by step. Figuring things out as I go with the unflinching support and patience of friends, family and my website designer! Some days it feels clumsy and uncertain. Other days there’s an exciting sense of progress.
What keeps me going is the vision of what these retreats and events will offer. I imagine guests arriving after busy or overwhelming weeks, stepping into the calm of the countryside. Slowing down. Breathing more deeply. Sharing meals, gentle conversations, time in nature and moments of stillness that are often hard to find in everyday life.My hope is to create small pockets of magic and peace throughout the year — spaces where people can pause and reconnect with themselves and nature.
For now though, March continues as it always does — a lot muddy, a little chaotic, but full of quiet signs that brighter days are on their way. The sunlight lingers a little longer, the fields and woods are slowly beginning to wake up. The birds continue their enthusiastic egg-laying, and the house and hives hum along with a mixture of activity and rest.
It’s not quite spring yet. But you can feel it coming.
View our events to see what I have been planning