Life at The Perry Farm
Sweet Joe-Pye weed is blooming in the meadow. I love its color—a pale mauve unlike that of any other flower that grows on the Perry Farm. It looks like pink smoke hanging over the pond. Or Cinderella’s ball gown, embroidered with gossamer-fine pink silk thread. I also love its name. The Mohican Joseph Shauquethqueat was... Continue Reading →
Starting in June, the Perry Farm is yellow. Yellow with coreopsis. Yellow with black-eyed Susan and yellow coneflower. Yellow with partridge pea and six kinds of goldenrod. There is so much yellow that I have to go looking for the outliers. That patch of red? Royal catchfly and cardinal flowers. That clump of orange? Butterfly... Continue Reading →
We used the last of our 2022 tomatoes, which we'd wrapped loosely in newspaper and stored in the garage three months ago. And I finally ground up the hot peppers I'd been drying in the breezeway, though it wasn't until my nose and hands began to burn that I thought to put on a mask... Continue Reading →
M. H. Perry 