Spring on Bardwell Farm

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Harrison Bardwell cultivates the spinach patch on his Allis-Chalmers tractor

PHOTOGRAPHS BY HARRISON BARDWELL

Bardwell Farm was established in 1685, and nine generations of our family has farmed this land for more than 300 years. I’m here for the legacy of the farm, the family tradition, and the love of the land. Farming isn’t just about producing something. For me, it’s the smooth touch of the warm soil in July, the smell of the greenhouse full of life in early April. It’s also the crunch of a fresh cucumber on a cool morning. This career to me is a life path of dedication: There are few days off and little downtime, but I’m never bored.

I took over the farm in 2016 from my grandparents who had simplified the business mainly into small acreage and retail sales. But I knew I wanted more. Over the last 10 years, through much struggle and reward and with an amazing crew, I have built a farm business with community support and fresh produce year-round—proof that a farm can succeed with some good ambition and years of hard work.

A crew member moves broccoli transplants out of the greenhouse for one of the first spring plantings.

SIGNS OF SPRING

After months of cold and cloudy weather, that first feeling of spring comes with a warm breeze and the smell of decaying and thawing plant debris in the soil. Cover crop is greening over the fields, tree buds are starting to emerge, and I am itching to be outside, still bundled up because it remains chilly. When that first warm day comes, I know it is go time, and the laundry list of projects starts. I feel like we farmers are in a race: Who will put the first plows in the ground for the year and plant the earliest seeding of onions or carrots?

When I first started, we farmed from April through October and took the winters off to rest, plan, and prep for the next season. In the past few years, we have become a year-round production farm. There is little to no cycle break, so sometimes I forget that the next season is around the corner, but the weather reminds me of what’s next.

For us, preparation for spring begins in February, when we start by prepping the propagation greenhouse for new seedlings. Our seed orders have arrived, potting mix sits waiting in the barn, and we are ready to get to work. Onions and leeks start early, followed by early season high-tunnel tomatoes and peppers. This is the slowest part of our cropping season. Once we hit March things really take off, and we get into the season full steam ahead by seeding broccoli, lettuces, squashes and so much more. At the same time, we are waiting for the last of the frost to leave the ground and some warming sunshine to start drying the fields out so we can break ground. This is where the real work begins.

The Bardwell farm stand, loaded with freshly picked asparagus and hanging flower baskets.

GETTING THE LAND READY

As the greenhouse starts busting at its seams, we need to get our butts in gear to get land ready for all the plants to be introduced to their new home. This is also when the equipment comes out of hibernation. We are wiping off the dust, greasing fittings, and hoping nothing is broken from last season. One by one they come out of the barns, first the plows, then the Perfecta fertilizer spreader, and most important, the planters, the heart of our planting operation.

The first two weeks of the season are the biggest kick to the body, as we are going from months of light indoor work to a 12-hour workday of lifting 50-pound fertilizer bags, 10 seedling trays at a whack, and remembering it’s only April. This is when the true workout begins, and by week four, your body is ready to go. Warm sunshine hits our skin, the smell of the freshly tilled soil hangs in the air, and green comes back into the fields with new plants. It doesn’t just feel good— it’s my motivation to push and push. I’m in my element.

Crew members prepare broccoli transplants for the field.

THE FIRST YIELD

My favorite time is when the asparagus starts to shoot out of its deep roots, the flowers start to blossom, and their scent is almost intoxicating. Our roadside stand opens in May, and this is the time of the year we really start generating an adequate income to cover our early season costs. Spring, one of the more crucial times of year, is also a time where the farm is generating the least amount of income for the season. We can really struggle if we don’t have a good plan in place when we are in this transition period: Last year’s crops have been sold and depleted, and the new season’s crops are either just going into the ground or just getting ready for the first harvest.

My grandfather always said, “You’re at the mercy of Mother Nature.” Some springs are so cold that our planting is delayed by weeks; an early spring gives us more time to get things planted. We are all in a race to get things in the ground, and the sooner we have something growing, the quicker we can get some payback on our investment. Our biggest threat is late-season frosts. I recall a frost at the end of May when temperatures dropped to the low 30s. We had tomatoes in our unheated high tunnels already, so we quickly came up with a system of covering them with reemay [a durable and porous fabric used to cover crops] to insulate and protect them. It worked! We lucked out.

Once we hit June, the season is in full swing, and we are in the groove of planting, harvesting, and everything in between. The sun is almost at its peak, main season crops are coming in, and something new has gone wrong at least once each day. Like I always say, if something isn’t breaking daily, we’re just not doing our best. That’s farming.

Bardwell Farm
49 Main St., Hatfield MA
413-800-5583
bardwellfarm.com