Reflections on the challenges of growing outdoor cannabis.
It may sound trite, but really, what a difference a year makes. Last year at this time, the meadow and hillsides were already golden, after several years of drought when they never truly turned green. Wildflowers were sparse and the deer looked hungry. The creeks were mostly stepping stones along the dry bed… perhaps a few greenish pools of murky water lingered from early winter rains. A general sense of dryness prevailed, and no one even dared mention the word “fire.”
As summer wore on with relentless days of blazing sun shining on the cannabis, Swami cleverly found new ways to keep the water pipes running to feed them. Our small lake is almost a mile away from the garden, up and down a hill or two, but luckily it ends up being about 10 feet higher elevation than the garden — just enough to be able to employ gravity as the pump. We rationed out spring water for household purposes and had to forego watering basically anything but the cannabis. Such are the sacrifices which must be made on a farm.