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PHONE: 619.662.1780
CSA Inquiries, please email rodrigo@suziesfarm.com
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For Farmer's Market Info, please email britta@suziesfarm.com
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For scheduled farm tours, our Kiki Town address is:
1856 Saturn Boulevard, San Diego CA 92154
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Did you know Suzie’s Farm delivers in San Diego five days a week? Not only that, several acres of our farm in San Diego’s Border State Park is dedicated to custom growing for the specific needs (and imagination) of our local chefs. Can you say boutique and convenience all in one breath? You don’t have to. Just say Suzie’s Farm. Visit our Chef's Page to view our delivery schedule and learn more about our partnership with restaurants.
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- We’re Jammin’
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- Winter Squash with Caramelized Onions
- Box Contents, August 31-September 5
- Eggplant Salad with Dill and Garlic
- moon gardening…
- Box Contents, August
- Have your Way With Fava Beans
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- Zesty Wheat Berries…Friend or Foe?
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As always when I first arrive to the field I like to see the bees. Before the bees is a capture cage. The cage is painted a light moss green and is about 7 feet high. It’s got a door in the front, water and seed at the floor. I think the people at the Tijuana River Estuary have put it out. I can’t remember what they are trying to capture. Inevitably the cage is full of what I think are small song birds. As inevitable; a Hawk perched on the cage.
Today’s was a Cooper’s hawk who did not fly away when I creeped up. He drew one claw into his body, and swiveled his head to the right, fixing his left eye on me. We mutually agreed, I would not get out of the van if he decided to stay on his perch so that I could admire him. He was about 6 feet away, confident and secure. After a few moments he completely lost interest in me. The birds in the cage fluttered and flitted to the top corner, away from the hawk. I tried to image how the caged birds feel. With the hawk a few inches from them? They are protected by the cage, but the threat is emminent. Their hearts hammering. Futile.
I drove onto the bee boxes. It is there that I usually get ready for the work day. I take off my civilian shoes and put on my farm boots. I get my water, and pen and paper. I hike over the rabbit fence, and sit next to the bee hives. I notice which hives look busier than others. Today I saw what looked like one bee on top of another bee. My first juvenile thought was that they were mating. After the top bee flew away, I noticed that the bottom bee was not moving. Did the top bee kill the bottom bee? Was the bottom bee dead already and the top bee was, what? Stealing his honey? I wondered about the bees. What are they doing?
Back to the van to drive toward the road and the main part of the field. Mondays are field report day.
Of course every day we go into the field and see what we see, but Mondays are the day that we’ve been away for the weekend. I try not to even check my email on the weekend, so Monday can be something of a surprise, with all that surprises hold - good, bad, unexpected. Robin, Ellie and I each look at something different. Ellie will email us her report if we don’t see her in the field. Today Robin and I caught up with her in the sunflowers, the bees zipping by. We shared our preliminary reports. Robin’s celery harvest brought him a nasty case of photo dermititis. Ellie has a bit on her hands and ankle. Britta, Hugo and Taylor are pretty bad off. They all need to stay out of the sun.
I noticed that in one row, a carrot has gone to flower. Carrots are kissing cousins to Queen Anne’s Lace. If you’ve received a pre-made bouquet of flowers you maybe be familiar with Queen Anee’s Lace. From a distance what appears as a cloud, is really many clusters of tiny, white flowers. Those clusters are clusters of flowers, not flowers themselves. Cluster upon cluster, and M.C. Esher joke. All those clusters of flowers keep the plants probability for survival great. If something happens to one of the clusters it’s not big deal, there are 1,000 more where that came from. The cloud shape is attractive and visible to pollinators and other beneficial insects. You’ve got to give those guys somewhere to live and land if you want them to make the trek into the field.
I hear the water lines hissing as I near the carrot. I see wasps, lacewings, flies, bees, butterflies, dragonflies and moths. All coming, going or kicking it on the flower cluster. The flower cluster actually acting as a train station or rest stop along the way.
The west wind insists. As I cross to see the newly staked tomatoes, I spy a wasp making its way. We both cross the road from section 107 to section 112. It buffers and flies southwest, headlong into the wind. Unable to fly in a straight line, it rolls along toward the nearest green thing, landing on a tomato for just a moment to readjust and rest, before taking off again. I can’t surmise it’s destination. There isn’t too much left in the field after 112. In a general way, the wasp is heading toward the river.
The wasp continues ahead of me, destination clear in its mind. Undeterred, no matter how assertive the rush of air, the wasp wafts along. He pauses to rest, or assess his progress, but he persists. Buffeted by the breeze, lifting and dipping, and always moving forward.