It is the first week of August, and the first day of rain in quite a long time. The water feels so welcome. I've lived my whole life in the Pacific Northwest so I feel fortunate that I'm used to the climate, and I expected it to be similar here as it was in the Willamette Valley. Though it is similar, it isn't the same. It feels like the closeness of the Salish sea creates a different quality in the air. When rain is imminent, the moisture hangs around longer, even if it's not raining. I find myself feeling the incoming rain and being excited for it and then waiting days or weeks for it to finally arrive. It's an interesting anticipation.


It's been about two months since my last reflection. I spent about two weeks away in that span of time in which I went back to Oregon to be a part of Grounds Crew at a land-based skills gathering called Echoes in Time. Everyone at Songaia was very gracious about my taking time away, and I was also met with a lot of excitement and interest to hear about what the gathering was like!

There's a sense I get that it is recognized here that what we bring to the community includes every part of us. The things we do when we're away from Songaia are still a part of Songaia and can be integrated upon our return. Everything we’ve been a part of before we arrived and after we go beyond is connected to our time here.

Also as I returned from Echoes in Time, it was the end of June and I turned my phone back on to check 2 weeks of e-mails, a fair amount of which were calls to pick the cherries ripening across the land! I remember feeling a little bummed that I'd missed the cherry explosion, but there was no need to worry because the trees continued to be generous. The summer has been full of fruit-gathering, and thus also full of fruit-preserving. It's been fun to explore how people prefer dried fruits, frozen fruits, or canned fruits, and all the ways we can reach each state of preservation.

Besides the cherries, I was introduced to a whole plethora of new-to-me fruits, and some that were familiar but that I'd never met in such numbers! Salmon berries and mulberries I knew, but had never been buried in before.

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Salal and currants I'd passed by countless times, yet this summer was my first time tasting them. Goumi berries I had never even heard of before: a strangely astringent yet juicy and sweet thing that glows in the sun. We had so many goumis (apparently more than those here had ever witnessed before) that we had the opportunity to experiment with how the fruits wanted to join our diet... was it nice as a juice or a jam or a leather? I personally liked it all the ways. I find it very delightful that there are so many here who are excited about transforming the gifts of the land into tasty treats, and anyone is free to do so, not just the gardeners.

Another awesome abundance the land has brought forth is more interns arriving! With them comes more perspectives, more opportunities of connection, and more hands to gather fruit, of course. I mostly enjoy learning what they enjoy, and witnessing how we come together as many different types of beings to join a single cause.

☆*: .｡. :*☆
There's been a strange phenomenon going on in the garden. One day during my Morning Noticings, a rose growing around the gazebo showed me something astonishing. A flower bud growing up out of another flower bud? A metablossom? a double-headed rose?
Several days later I noticed it doing the same thing elsewhere on its bush.
As time went on I saw it again in the Dahlias! And then a Garlic we harvested exhibited a similar sprouting from a bizarre point of its stalk. We also saw a Calendula sending out numerous flower heads from its own flower head like a hydra! Even a plum fruit was found sharing its growth as two-in-one.

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Such strange and new patterns of growth remind me that evolution is always occuring. We have this idea that certain factors need to be in place for flourishing to happen. We notice patterns and we predict, however... and this is an important part of the permaculture process (or any process in life)... Nothing is certain. The things we imagine will happen and what we imagine we will need in those moments is infinitesimal to what we discover when we observe our reality.

How does a plant grow multiple heads? What new interactions does it bring to the world? What does it teach me about the blossoms that I'm used to seeing that I wouldn't have noticed without this contrast? There is never nothing left to learn.

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Anita the garden steward is my mentor, and they start us every morning at the crisp hour of 7am with practices of noticing. There are signs in the central garden gazebo that invites one to “Come to your senses”, and to ask “Are you in the story or in the moment?” We check in about how we slept and how we feel that morning, any dreams that feel significant, and then we learn a bird call that Anita plays for us and prompts us to move out into the garden to spend a quarter of an hour simply Noticing whatever arises. 
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​As for the things my hands are doing, I’ve always loved being in the dirt. Anita and the other folks who join us are a joy to work with. It’s also gratifying to see all the different gardening methods and philosophies- there are some quite varying opinions on which plants stay and who goes in the weeding process– and yet overall I see the values of collaboration remaining steadfast. It is always encouraged for us to listen to our own energy and body capacities, so it’s quite sustainable for someone like me with chronic body pain and for our elders to engage without injuring ourselves further.

Anita describes the garden as a learning garden, and I feel that when I’m in it, and I feel that sentiment expands to Songaia as a whole.

Though I have yet to join a designated spiritual gathering here,* I feel my own spiritual process being encouraged, and I notice the deeply spiritual lives the people here embrace. There is the aspect of the spiritual in all the work I have joined in on so far, and I smell deep potential on the wind for me discovering more spiritually connective rituals in this place.

*Actually, as I typed that, I realized it’s not totally accurate. I haven’t joined a dedicated meditation session (of which Songaia often holds), but a lovely person living here hosted a creative workshop on the Hermit Archetype and Symbology in the Tarot, and that was a very actively spiritual process as well as engaging my left-brain learning. Really rich stuff, Friedel!

I was also lent a bike early on, and while the hills are nothing to sniff at, it’s been such a boon for getting on the buses to Seattle, and finding my way to the beautiful North Creek trail down the hill where yesterday I dipped my feet (and the rest of my body) to cool off from the rising summer heat.

Also I love living in the A-frame tucked into the trees. Always serenaded by bird song and the rustling of leaves! (And being helpfully lent a box fan to help drown out the unfortunate traffic noise at night.)
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So, that is not nearly all of my thoughts coming out of my first four weeks, but it’s enough for now.
-Kendall T. ​

The sweet smell of golden plums cooking in a pot with a warm undertone of cinnamon and cardamom fills the air. It is jam making day at Songaia! With the help of other volunteers and community members, we all huddled over cutting boards to process several boxes of plums, cutting into quarters to work around the pit. Taking turns watching the timer, stirring the pot and measuring out sugar and other ingredients, we all worked together to make about 35 jars of jam. Throughout the season, I have processed golden plum jam, applesauce, fig jam, and soon will be working on white currants and blackberries. This is one of my favorite hobbies and it provides a fun activity to bond with others and have some really good conversations. ​

During my time at Songaia, we had several field trip opportunities. One day we took 10 flats of golden plums to the Lynnwood Food Bank. Another time, we attended a workshop at Magnusson Park about how to prune fruit trees. With each passing day, I not only learn valuable skills in the field of regenerative agriculture, but I connect with community resources, find mentors, share knowledge and stories. Social cohesion and teamwork are the glue that holds Songaia together. That is what makes an intentional community. Though members of intentional communities typically share a common social, political, or spiritual vision, Songaia works hard to honor different schools of thought and ways of doing things. 

Working alongside the community, I have observed the communal decision-making process, how properties and resources are shared, how housework is divided among the community, and most importantly, the reduced ecological footprint that comes from sharing and saving all these resources. Following the permaculture principles, Songaia uses and values their renewable resources by composting, vermiculture, and regenerative agriculture practices. Nothing goes to waste here.

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By working together, pulling our resources, and practicing regenerative agriculture, we can all enjoy the fruits of our labors. We got to celebrate the nearing end of summer season with a Songaia jamboree complete with ice breaker games, songs, and a picnic style potluck. What a wonderful way to honor the end of the season and welcome in the fall! ​

I have seen so many different types of beetles these past few weeks. I’m thinking of getting/making an ID book for reference. I’d love to be able to learn more about different types and be able to identify them. ​

We went to the Beacon Food Forest (I want to live as a frog in their swamp potatoes it was such a cute spot and if I was a frog I wouldn’t need to think about money and oh gods why am I not a frog but I wouldn’t have thumbs and that would be annoying and wait do frogs have thumbs?). I enjoyed the tour, especially getting to try some new plants. Even though I hated most of them. Especially the one that tasted like weird meat stew. A plant tasting like bone broth is cool, but I hated it so much, it just felt wrong. Like a dog hissing.  
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Sorry I’m not writing a lot, I’ve been working on a project! (coming soon to a garden near you) I’ve also been sick which is not fun. 
I wonder if frogs get runny noses… 
Do frogs have noses? 
Do I even know what a frog is? Why can’t I answer these simple questions? ​

Would Old McDonald really have a farm without animals? Who would cluck cluck here and cluck cluck there? All jokes aside, the chickens of Songaia play a vital role in their community. These birds can provide up to 3 dozen farm fresh eggs per week! All of the chickens are dual purpose breeds, meaning they can lay eggs but are still large enough to provide meat averaging about 5-7 pounds. The hens typically produce eggs well up until they are 5 years old. At that point, productivity declines. This would be the time to dispatch and butcher if you wish. 

Other than meat and eggs, the chickens can also provide landscape services, though not as pristine as a human gardener can. The birds will scratch the ground to hunt for insects like aphids and mealy bugs, and as they dig and feed, they leave their droppings behind as fertilizer. Though it may seem odd to us, the chickens actually keep themselves clean by rolling in the dirt. All chickens have an oil gland at the base of their tail which helps them to waterproof their feathers. As time goes on the oil can go stale. The birds then spread dirt or other dusty materials over their feathers to carry away the old oil particles. 

Chickens also have their own social hierarchy known as the pecking order. At the top of the tower sits Lucky, a beautiful and friendly spotted banty rooster. Lucky works hard to keep his ladies safe from flying predators such as hawks and eagles. He scans the sky as the hens peck away at the ground. Another key part of his job is maintaining law and order among the flock. If two hens are feuding, it is his job to break it up. The chickens have a complex communication pattern and can produce up to 30 different vocalizations to convey a wide variety of messages such as: food, danger, stress, mating, etc.

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The chickens aren’t the only players in this game though. Allow me to introduce the GOAT, the greatest of all time, the reigning champion, and destroyer of Himalayan blackberry…. Stormy!!! Who needs a landscaper when you got this guy? Stormy and his little buddy Snowflake are considered foragers, not grazers like sheep, though both animals are ruminants. 

Goats have a four chambered stomach consisting of the rumen, reticulum, omasum, and the abomasum. The rumen plays an important role in breaking down cellulose from plant materials, and it acts as a giant fermentation vat. It is common after they have finished feeding to hear a chorus of loud belching. They frequently regurgitate their food, to chew the cud, which helps to break materials down further.

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The thing that gives the goat the competitive edge versus sheep is the diversity of plant materials they can eat. They are not just limited to grass. All goat breeds are adapted to a mountainous landscape and are able to climb and reach the most tender leaves, while balancing on their dainty hooves. The goats are especially beneficial to humans in breaking down the invasive Himalayan blackberry. 

Applying this to the fourth permaculture principle, the livestock at Songaia plays a vital role in the self-regulation of the ecosystem. The chickens work hard to eliminate pests of the insect variety while the goats tackle the weeds and invasive plants. Additionally, both disturb the soil and apply fertilizer. By relying on these natural methods for landscape services, the animals help to minimize the carbon output of gas-powered tools, reduce the risk of wildfires by clearing brush, and also reduce the cost in labor for clearing a blackberry patch. 

But the fourth principle has two parts, we apply self-regulation, in this case we are using integrated pest management. With this method, we eliminate harmful pests but maintain beneficial species. A common example I see in the garden on a daily basis is the ladybug and the aphids. Because the ladybugs help to keep the aphid population in check, we don’t have to use harmful pesticides. This also helps to keep our pollinators safe, who then work hard to pollinate all of our flowers. This allows us to accept the feedback, in this case, an abundance of fruits and vegetables.

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On a warm July Saturday afternoon, the interns gather under a plum tree for a final harvest. It is laden with reddish purple plums. These plums - like most stone fruits you may notice - have a dusky almost white wax when mature. This is known as “wax bloom.” It serves as a barrier to protect the fruit from insects and bacteria, and to minimize moisture loss from the surface of the fruit’s skin. As more and more plums fall into the “belly bucket” I carry, the weight of it causes the harness to dig into my shoulders. All together, we harvested an estimated 26 pounds of fruit. Reflecting on this reminds me to be grateful for the bees and to admire mother nature’s brilliance in creating her own self-regulatory systems. ​

​I didn’t know what to write about and mentioned that fact to my dad. He asked me what the first three things I noticed at Songaia were. I started off with the way the light lands, and how it makes me wish I were a better painter so I could capture it. Then the softness of the petals on the many, many, flowers, and of course how hot and sweaty I was. My dad told me I could just write about that. I’m not particularly interested in writing about being sweaty, so that leaves the light and petals. Aaand since I haven’t written a poem in a while.

Ombré flecks of scattered pale, placid gold,
An alluring tapestry of sunlight
Draws one out despite the sultry air
All while the shadows relinquish their hold

Slowly, as the morning glow dissipates
My focus shifts to the painterly scene
A garden of flowering plants creates
Fragile petals soft as a forest stream

Swirling fragrance, seemingly from a dream
I don’t have the artistry to requite
The simple delight in a flower,
Or light, for that matter

I’m not very comfortable sharing any of my writing or art, even in kind and supportive environments. But I think keeping everything out of view only hinders improvement, and I worry people will build up the idea of my writing and expect it to be better than it is.

I’ve always loved this plant since I was little, but I didn’t know what it was called until Anita told me. It’s Bindweed. It can be hard to tell Field Bindweed (Convolvulus arvensis) and Hedge Bindweed (Calystegia sepium) apart; every time I think I can distinguish them I mess it up.

https://cals.cornell.edu/weed-science/weed-identification/bindweed-identification https://kingcounty.gov/en/legacy/services/environment/animals-and-plants/noxious-weeds/weedidentification/hedge-bindweed https://kingcounty.gov/en/legacy/services/environment/animals-and-plants/noxious-weeds/weedidentification/field-bindweed.aspx

​I don’t know what I’m talking about, but the above sources seem ok. It is a shame that these choke out other plants.

​I’ve only spent two weeks working in the garden, but I’ve already noticed some changes in me. Now when I look at piles of vines while out and about, I pay more attention to the shape and color of the leaves to differentiate them. Can I identify them? Not even close, but I'm paying more attention to details. I also have become a bug person (excluding spiders and earwigs). Instead of jumping after a bug flew out of my hair, I thought it was cute, so I let it hang out on my hand for a while. A day later a beetle fell out of my shoe. I really hope this is a normal garden thing and I'm not admitting to being overly buggy. I’ve also gotten a lot more tolerant of the sun and heat. We're not friends, but I no longer dramatically monologue at the sun and lament the heat. I think I might start it up again though, dramatic monologues are quite fun.

We break down one area of the garden by weeding and using a broad fork to disturb the soil. The finished compost is layered on top of the bed, spilling into the crevices that the fork creates. We create furrows alongside the drip irrigation lines, filling them with seeds and lightly covering them. A generous spray of water and these seeds can begin to catch energy from the chemicals, water, and sunlight. The garden is full of life and not just in the soil. 
When we look beyond the soil we practice observation. Observation is a key feature of the first principle of permaculture. We feel life almost slows down at Songaia as one begins to stop and simply take a look around the garden. Lettuce, herbs, roses, dahlias, tomatoes, peas and more all interact with the diverse wildlife. Bees, hummingbirds, and ladybugs flutter between the plants spreading pollen, increasing the fertility of the plants. This biodiversity creates a healthy and balanced ecosystem, minimizing our impact on the earth and reducing waste, while creating food to nourish us. 

This allows the crops to grow big and strong, creating an abundance of beautiful crops. From these we can create a salad or cherry crisp to share at dinner with the community. This feeds not just our bodies but our souls, as we build connections to the land and each other. We share stories and knowledge between generations. ​

A sparrow pauses on the water fountain in the center of the garden. She is stopping for a drink, possibly some shade from the oppressive heat. She too feeds on seeds and grain like us. Eventually she decides that she has had enough and takes flight.


Here at Songaia a sign on the fountain invites us to ask the question “Are you in the story or in the moment?” It’s so easy to get caught up in a story in our heads. People everywhere are dealing with climate change and social collapse. People are tired. We need to stop, observe, and interact. If I had kept myself ruminating on the cycle of doom and gloom, I would not have been able to pause and enjoy this moment and appreciate the simple beauty of nature.

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Me and the interns usually start our mornings in the Garden harvesting. It has been so cool to be able to see all the changes in the garden. These are most of the main vegetables we harvest every morning! I really enjoy digging for potatoes, it feels like I’m digging for gold. I’m amazed by how many beans the rows are able to make. Almost every day we collect a huge bowl full of them! I find myself becoming more present when I harvest. I can’t help but be amazed by its calming beauty, and fresh herbal scents. The Garden truly feels like a magical place.

On this day we made blackberry mint mojitos for the movie Spirited Away! We took this picture under the tree house in the Garden. The blackberries gave the mojito a fresh fruity flavor and the mint was a cool addition.

Me and the interns like to climb trees. This tree we found in the native food forest. We were amazed at how strong and bendy it was!