The ice on Mud Lake has melted, the grass is beginning to wake, the birds are arriving, singing their songs. Only three weeks ago, the ice was holding fast to the shoreline, the days were shorter, the snow was still falling, and I was still living in the Twin Cities. Today, there is newness here at Lily Springs Farm.
Although our family has owned the property for over 30 years, no one has lived here for more than a few days. When our plans to restore and reinvigorate the farm began to take root this past summer, the moments of solitude and tranquility that I now know were far-away dreams then. When I arrived to the farm last week to complete my move-in, I was greeted by a beautiful scene.
Mates for life, the swans are an inseparable pair; they glide silently over the placid water, their white feathers glistening. Their presence here, in the absence of the ice and snow, is a reminder of the harsh winters past, of the blank and untouched canvas that the spring thaw reveals; it’s as though they’re gesturing, silently, that this lake, this land, this moment are all here for a reason, and that they approve of what’s to come.
This is our first post on the LSF blog, signaling a new beginning as we delve into our first year of restoration work, educational programming, and celebrations of the seasons, land, and community. Please join us, follow along, visit the farm, and explore the future Lily Springs Farm.