Life at The Perry Farm
The creek bed is dry enough for us to walk in it. This is an exciting time at the Perry Farm (in the small, quiet way most things are exciting at the Perry Farm). It happens only once or twice a year, and every walk offers the opportunity for discovery. The creek bed itself will... Continue Reading →
We own a woods, a hundred acres of white oaks, hard maples, hickory, and beech trees. We own it thanks to Keith's mother, who grew up on an adjacent farmstead, bought by her German grandparents with money they saved from working the New England textile mills. We are lucky to own this woods: It is a... Continue Reading →
At least once a week, I walk the farm. Correct that. I police the farm. This is a big, out-of-the-way place, after all. Trespassers could be camped in the woods, cooking meth in the ravine, growing weed in the sunny corridor between us and the state line, and we’d never know. So I scout the... Continue Reading →
M. H. Perry 