Nature Matters

I look not to our leaders, for they have already proven themselves ineffective—but to myself. I have these 53-acres. Here, and here alone, I have the power to protect nature.

Sheltered from the drizzling rain by the broad sweeping branches of an impressive pine, I read the words printed on the wooden plaque at Birdsacre in Ellsworth, Maine. The field notes of Cordelia J. Stanwood written some 104 years ago, lovingly copied onto a slab of lumber in permanent marker and protected by polyurethane, then mounted to the tree for all to see. Marveling at the simplicity of it’s design, I photographed the display as a reminder to incorporate such signage back at Runamuk Acres, but even more importantly as a reminder to initiate the practice of keeping field notes at my own wildlife sanctuary. I invite you to join me now for the latest updates from this Maine farm and ecologic reserve!

Welcome to the latest Updates From the Farm! If you are new here, I invite you to check out my About page to learn what this is, who I am and why I am doing this. Or just dive right in! At “Runamuk Acres” you’ll find the recantings of one lady-farmer and tree-hugging activist from the western mountains of Maine. #foodieswanted

Keeping a nature journal was something I’d meant to start doing as soon as I got here, but the business of establishing the farm has been all-consuming and life got in the way. Every now and again something would remind me of that ambition, but the idea would flutter away again, lost in the chaos of my own existence. Seeing Miss. Stanwood’s entries there upon the tree, touring the Birdsacre Sanctuary, inspired me all over again to take up the habit.

NOTE: This visit has even inspired me to create a new series on the blog! “Field Notes” (working title) will feature my own field notes, share stories of the naturalists who preceed us, and other bits and bobs from my favorite naturalists here on Substack. Stay tuned for more about that coming soon!

Meet Dan!

For the first time in almost 2 years I stepped away from the farm for a weekend, lured away to Downeast Maine by my new boyfriend, Dan. We played tourist for a day, exploring the blueberry barrens and Bar Harbor with it’s myriad shops and ocean views. Wherever we went there were excellent drinks and fine cuisine. We even managed to catch the Ellsworth Farmers’ Market, where I scored some late-season green beans and Maine-grown ginger.

The rain, I thought, only accentuated the vibrant fall colors on display.

Yes! There’s a newcomer to our cast of characters here at Runamuk Acres!

It’s still very new and tender, but Dan and I have been seeing each other for the last couple of months. We share many common interests, including a deep love for nature, and felt inexplicably drawn to each other. With two hours’ travel between us and each of us with our own lives to live, our visits have been few and each one precious.

A Hell of an Adjustment

Returning to the farm on Sunday, where BraeTek had been farm-sitting so I could be away for the weekend, I moved the rams on the field. In spite of the sprinkles coming from the sky, I saw only the beauty of autumn in Maine as I shuffled fences, and I wondered if people will look back on my own life in a hundred years, commending my own conservation efforts as they do Cordelia Stanwood or Aldo Leopold.

I have a lot of work ahead of me, I know, if my legacy is to stack up to such notable naturalists: birdhouses, bat houses, benches for forest bathing, improvements to fences and garden soil, a new shed for wintering the sheep, and 2 more campsites.

But first the taxes must be paid, funds generated for materials, and it’s farmer freed from the oppression of the 9-5 grind (or 7-2 in my case). Right now, I’m just focused on preparing the farm for the impending winter...

Though autumn has arrived late to the western mountains of Maine, the temperatures have finally dropped and I’m feeling the pressure to wrap things up. Equipment needs to be pulled off the field and gardens, we’re still working to muck out winter livestock sheds, and I have to make time to winterize the house as well.

It’s overwhelming and I admit I’m terrified I’ve traded all my hopes and dreams for a bit of financial security. Yet, if I don’t get the property taxes caught up all my hopes and dreams will be lost anyway.

I need more passive income. I need to spend time marketing my writing—I think the only copy of How to Buy a Farm With No Money that I’ve sold is the one I bought for myself. That’s the flip-side of being an indie-author, though…you can publish all the books you want, but if no one knows they exist how can you sell them?

It’s been a hell of an adjustment working off the farm again, and the floors at school are murder on my poor feet. In spite of a daily yoga regimen, I’ve struggled with plantar fasciitis for years. While working for myself on the farm, I was able to manage the condition, but serving as Head Cook at the Kingfield Elementary School has exacerbated the issue, adding to the challenge I face in keeping up with “it all”.

Thankfully, Friday is payday and I’ve decided to pony up the dough to invest in some good quality shoes for work. The school will reimburse me for expense, so that’s a pretty sweet perk.

Intrigued and Inspired by Early Conservationists

Places like Birdsacre and people like Cordelia J. Stanwood speak to me. I am intrigued and inspired by those early conservationists. I remember being similarly fascinated when I took my boys to the Borestone Mountain Audubon Sanctuary several years ago, exploring the remains of the fox pens that signify a time not so long ago, when settlers were just discovering the wilds of Maine…

In the early 1900’s, Robert T. Moore managed a fox ranch on what is now Borestone Mountain Audubon Sanctuary. Moore bequeathed Borestone to the National Audubon Society in 1958, and gifts by his son and daughter and other donors enlarged the sanctuary to its present 1,639 acres. In 2000, the National Audubon Society transferred Borestone Sanctuary to Maine Audubon. Today, it is the centerpiece of Maine Audubon’s north woods presence.

It was the same when I discovered Aldo Leopold and his Sand County Almanac. Reading the man’s simple observations stirs something deep inside and I can only hope to do even half of what this great man has done for wildlife.

These early conservationists stand to remind us of a time gone by, when the onslaught of industry and “progress” already threatened wildlife and wild places. Cordelia, Robert and Aldo saw the direction society and humanity were heading even then. They loved nature as I do, and they did what they could to safeguard nature for those who followed.

I, too, must do what I can for nature.

Nature Matters

In this modern world, when it seems we have so very little control over what’s happening to our environment, I look not to our leaders, for they have already proven themselves ineffective—but to myself. I have these 53-acres. Here and here alone I have the power of control to protect nature.

It’s a very small-scale project, to be sure. But such conservation projects fuel the larger, regional efforts, which support national efforts and the overall momentum of environmentalism at the global level.

In my eyes, every last bit of the natural world is indeed a wonder, a marvel in it’s very existence. I feel blessed and profoundly grateful to spend my existence in such a paradise. We need nature and wild spaces just as we need air and water and food. That’s why every patch of Earth protected matters.

Nature matters.

Once lost, these natural wonders will be gone forever and I am not okay with that.

Now more than ever, I am determined to build up my little reserve. I want Runamuk Acres to be a haven. A sanctuary for wildlife and people alike. A place where people near and far come to escape modern industry and reconnect with nature.

With such an important mission to carry out, every hour I am away from the farm is time lost from Runamuk.

Sydney Michalski

hit the nail on the head when she deemed this struggle a “tug of war”.

Tug of War

At the moment, the farm is at risk of foreclosure for unpaid taxes. Finances have been an ongoing struggle these last couple years and things have finally caught up with me. That’s ultimately the reason I took a job (that and the fact that my car is about to fall out from under me…). If I lose this farm, I’ll have nothing to protect and even less power to do something meaningful for wildlife.

And so I go, taking myself off at 6:30 in the morning and returning in the early afternoon. I have until November 22nd to pay the outstanding 2022-taxes before the town of New Portland will issue a foreclosure notice. Once that happens, the Farm Service Agency (who holds the mortgage on my farm) will issue a payment for the taxes to protect their investment. And then, that sum is billed to me and due immediately.

It’s a good position, working as Head Cook at the Kingfield Elementary School and I’m grateful to have it. So far I’ve made two payments toward the taxes, bought heating fuel, brought my utilities current (except the water bill), spoiled my old dog Murphy with a trip to the groomers’, stocked up on grain, and even bought puppy treats and a couple of new bras (yknow…for my hot dates!—and because they were sorely needed).

Once finances are caught up, I’ll start funneling money into Runamuk again. Seeds for the 2025 gardens, lumber for forest-bathing benches and birdhouses, fencing to make rotational grazing easier for this solo lady-farmer, a 2nd and 3rd campsite, and a new mini-barn to house ewes and lambs through the winter.

The catch-22 is that in order to build benches and birdhouses, eek out new campsites and make signs, I have to be here to do the work. That’s where the tug of war comes into play…

YOU Sustain Me

Maybe one day things will change for me. Perhaps my writing takes off in a big way. Or perhaps Runamuk is finally noticed and we receive a windfall donation to support our conservation efforts. Then I can be full-time on the farm again.

Meanwhile, I feel good knowing I’m doing whatever it takes to hang onto this farm and that sustains the dream in the interim. Just as you sustain the dream just by following my story.

It’s a gift, to have readers and followers, friends and strangers alike, local acquaintances and foreign well-wishers, all cheering me on. Even if you’ve never left a comment, and regardless of whether or not you’ve supported my work with your wallet—you inspire me. YOU give me strength and validate this burning desire of mine to protect nature, and in difficult times such as these you sustain me.

I thank you for such blessings. Truly.

Sending love and good juju to you and yours.

Your friendly neighborhood farmer,

Sam

PS — In case you missed it, the latest installment of On Blackstone Mountain is now available at Wild Hearts & Harvests!

Blind Date

PPS — Until such time as I can return to farming and writing full-time, read-aloud versions of posts have been temporarily suspended. If you would like to see them return sooner, you can help bring them back by becoming a paid subscriber and supporting my efforts. I thank you for your understanding and patience.

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Thank you for following along with the story of this lady-farmer! It is truly a privilege to live this life serving my family and community, and protecting wildlife through agricultural conservation. Check back soon for more updates from the farm, and be sure to follow @RunamukAcres on Instagram or Facebook!