Fresh Exchange

Bringing you back to nature through the garden. Midwest and Michigan Gardening Inspiration. A modern homestead life bringing the garden to the kitchen.

Eating Locally and Seasonally. Zone 6a. 📍Leelanau County, MI and written by Megan Gilger and Mike Gilger. www.freshexchange.com

12/07/2024

Some pictures that write words. Cheers to December’s best start in a while. May winter be this strong till April. 🙏🏼

11/26/2024

The planting of the garlic is the end of the season. A sign that we have passed through the harvest and now set our intentions on the next. We plant garlic with the parts of the year that we do not plan to carry on into the next year. We place them in the soil mentally with each open hole we dig and close hoping that by dropping them beneath the soil that they create space for the growth to come, that in some way they degrade like the leaves we leave on the soil to feed the future we dream of.

128 holes were dug and in them 128 things were mentally left behind with each one. Each time a change to lighten the weight and reflect on what must move with me and what no longer can.

Every time I plant the garlic. I wait till the very moment that winters cold is becoming permanent. This year it came late but then suddenly. I always say my body must be frozen by the time I am done. This time it was extremely true. The damp, cold wind whipped at my body and my legs and hands went numb, my nose ran. I always want it to bring me to my edge of comfort so I don’t long to continue the work after the bulbs all go in. I want it to always feel like it is time to rest.

I watch the earth more than ever now to tell me when bc my old notes never are true anymore as the earth shifts and changes. I have to trust the timing and keep my senses keen to when the time is right.

Now, we rest. We let the darkness tuck us away and the snow to pile up. We shift our attention from out to in. We now sit by the fire and watch the flame dance and we dream about all we can still do to continue growing, pushing to a better world, and how to do it within the soil we have been planted.

11/19/2024

I have always been enamoured by color. As a child my crayons were my favorite thing to organize and play with on paper and off. They were loved and I enjoyed their names as I learned to read. As I grew color became fascinating in new ways. It began to make me feel things that didn’t have words. I noticed the subtle differences of the tree colors in the seasons and I loved mixing paints to find new shades. How a color can be both cool and red still blows me away. How the subtlest addition of one color can change it all.

As an adult I track the colors in our landscape here but also when we travel. The way the light changes the tone or hue throughout the day for instance is mesmerizing.

Yet, what grabs my attention is watching the colors change over the seasons in the same place. How these hills and land can shift as the sun moves north to south and east to west throughout the year. How the snow can change the way the light reflects in the trees. How the cool northern light somehow makes things warm and golden. The way parts of the hills are highlighted in various times of the year. It all speaks to me. I pay attention all day now that I am home more with work shifting into the slower and colder days.

I think the practice of observing our landscape around us whether in a city or wild places is vital to bringing a sense of grounding to place and attention outside of the chaos the world can tend to make us feel. I plan to pursue this practice further this winter in ways I haven’t had the time for. Color observation feels like a great way to draw closer to the seasons this coming year.

11/14/2024

I began a new series on my newsletter this season. I hope for it to continue for a long time as it scratches my itch of paying deep and close connection between nature and what it has to offer us in terms of wisdom and instruction on being a living being on this home we call earth.

Garlic is the 2nd of the plants in this series because it is the time when it is being put into the ground. It is one of my favorite plants to grow in my garden. I love alliums in general but garlic has always spoken deeply to me in particular.

In the series today which is a paid subscriber piece, I discuss the lessons it gives from one season to another about living, letting go, producing more than needed to prosper, working with others, and most of all how what we no longer need can be what feeds our future self. It is a beautiful little read and my favorite part of this series is hearing from others about what they see in the wisdom of a member of the greater ecosystem web.

What I know from garlic is that planting anything in the cold knowing we are entering a darker time of the year is an act of hope and if growing garlic has offered me anything it is the continued practice on how to hope. I am holding that wisdom closely knowing when I meet the green peaks life will no doubt look different because life is only a continual process of accepting change for better or worse.

If like me you need to listen more to the soil under you to find stability this new series may feel like a good place to turn. As the term biomimicry suggests, all wisdom and truth exists in nature, it just takes a willingness to listen, observe, and magnify the words that for many feel silent because we have lost touch with our ability to listen. I am on that journey to dig in more and more and this is how I plan to help you do the same.

So let’s begin, what is something you have noted about garlic about what it can it teach us?!

09/29/2024

Something about that September light…..

09/20/2024

The shifting of the landscape feels dramatic this year. The lack of rain. The heat. It feels so quick for some reason and all I am wanting is to sit and watch it in its fading while hunting for the truths this land around me speaks about living in this wild place we call home.

I don’t let the crisped fields slip through my mind as if they have nothing to give, if anything they have plenty! Plenty to teach me about how to endure when things get sparse or what it is to age with grace and gratitude, storing the last of it all in the soil around me so behind me there may be something abundant once again.

I find these final days of summer so utterly sad, magical, and hopeful in some odd concoction. I always want to hold them. The precious in between suspending between every ending, remembering what it took to grow it all, and at the same time longing for the next season’s gifts. What I find is that the more time I spend working with the land around this area of the world, the more peace I have with the passing of time and all the complexity that comes with it. I also find that it is all far simpler than we believe it to be.

So I am out here, wandering the woods, fields, and shoreline in my spare time feeling utter gratitude for just being alive and feeling the electricity that comes from the endings in our region. Thankful for all it has given despite how we are still learning how to be good stewards of it all.

09/04/2024

There were days I held these sort of dinners to a level of insane perfectionism. Cameras setup around. A production of sorts. My life feeling oddly similar in so many ways. A world of creating the moment. The perfect appearance.

I stopped that just before having my 2nd. I let go of the world of ideal photo shoots. The manicured experience of living. In truth it fed a part of me I proceeded to unravel in therapy for the last few years as a recovering influencer undergoing evolution. A part of me who controlled things in order to keep things safe and unfelt where I needed the healing in myself the most.

Now, almost 5 years later, I’ve changed. My cells feel different than the ones who use to control the angle of the camera and the scene I let it see. I am not that person anymore. She is resting and content and prefers it this way. Instead, I learned that real life is where the beauty lies. In the lack of control and the unexpected parts of life we embrace as they arrive to us. I instead learned life is best messy, overflowing, imperfect, loud and a bit wild. I learned it by working with the land, digging deeper into healing myself, and clearing away things that I didn’t want on this ride of life anymore.

It feels good to breathe deeper and be in these moments like this one this weekend, laughing, not looking for the photo angle, and just absorbing the present. Lacking a care for anything being ready for a camera anymore. Letting the laugh creases and wrinkles be signs of becoming the best version of myself.

Closing out this summer with a dinner with this crew of humans was amazing because these are some amazing salt of the earth, value the purest forms of good things sort of humans and I am glad we are dreaming big about things that look to those pure things in life as the guides. It’s something 5 years ago I couldn’t have been capable of, but now I feel very ready for it all to unfold as my hairs gain grays and more laugh lines form from nights like this one.

08/25/2024

In the final weeks of august I desire for my home to be filled with the scents of the garden. The floral of tulsi and the brightness of tomatoes to dance side by side as they overtake the shelves of my kitchen. To sense that the earth itself is engulfing my every sense of existence. To feel the passionate longing of the desire for the sweetest melon to be an afternoon’s whole plan. To feel the warmth of the freshly picked tomato upon my face as I bite in to it and the red juice slides down my skin. To wake to the full moon over the fading hills in all their ripeness. To feel the depth of longing to have my bare toes covered in soil even now after all these weeks together just like this, still not finding it has been enough.

August is a story of love, longing, passion, and savoring. Like being with a lover we know our time together narrows with each day. Soaking it in with every ounce we can because we will never meet in the same state of self again.

08/09/2024

This summer hasn’t been as closely tied to the garden. It’s pretty wild out there right now. There are a few reasons for this, but one of them is things are just full in other places. Full in great and beautiful ways and there was a time from 2019-2023 where this garden was part of the fullness. I needed it as a place to sink in, be present, and relocate myself while being a mom to tiny kids. I like being busy and having projects and this gave them to me while I was that version of me and also evolving my career.

A wise woman once told me while I was pregnant for my 2nd and my 1st on my hip, she said “don’t let your passions or career fade in this chapter. Hold them loosely and lightly just enough to tread water. So that when they grow and your next chapter opens, you will know exactly what you want to be and what you want to chase next while they begin to do the same separately from you.” For me that was this garden. It let me evolve, reshape, hold space for myself that being a full on mom and caretaker at that time easily could have clouded. Now, they are stepping away from me, finding their own rhythms and ways further from me as every year passes. I don’t know what that means for this space yet but it feels amazing that it grew into something incredible in that time, my kids love it, we all enjoy it, but it isn’t what it once was but neither am I.

The thing about nature and the places we cultivate is that they have a tendency to shape in new ways with us too. Sometimes it isn’t always clear right away, but it does become so with time. The amazing thing is no matter what it continues to give and our work we once put in continues to grow new things, which is true in life and the garden. That’s something I am learning spending time here, still gathering lush bouquets from a garden I haven’t weeded very well, but once did in order to feel a sense of purpose in ways I was afraid I might lose.

05/01/2024

It isn’t easy to grow food. It isn’t easy to work with soil at times particularly on a sandy and windy hill with varying microclimates. It is completely a work of love for land and self and our connection to each other.

For years I have spent springs and falls cultivating perennial plants and food that would emerge in spring. These things take time to see into fruition.

Like a great space you call home you cannot make something worthy of true interest and life giving beauty without the layers of work and time. Landscapes are even more so. There is no paint by numbers or a quick fix to a space that just gives abundantly. Giving to a space eventually gives back. At times the investments feel under appreciated. Then one day after the rains of April, you wander to the gardens gate. The one you built with your hands and look at the soil that once was sand and from it even before your pea seeds are emerging are flowers and fresh herbs. There are spears of asparagus emerging from the soil with vigor.

In that moment as the apple tree forms blossoms, you feel more than thankful, you feel love. The kind of love that only well tended soil can give to you.

I am thankful for arrival of May and all the abundance she brings now to us. Reminding us that the work is more than just seen, but repaid tenfold. A reminder that beautiful and life giving things need time and where you spend that time you will see something flourish greater than you could imagine.

04/25/2024

The land and garden aren’t much to photograph right now at a quick glance. The layers of the past year are still visible and we are only just now seeing the emergence of what this growing year will look like.

Since February, I have struggled with writing. Stringing words into coherent thoughts has felt hard. There are many reasons I believe this to be true. My practice of regular walks in the morning fell to the wayside. I was entrenched in a course for my certification. I was processing a lot of things. I was starting a new business. Then there was the loss of my companion of 15 years. Leaving for a few weeks to another world was a gift to reset.

I took my notebook, hoping in some way my words would come back, dots would connect. I tried to force them, but I know myself well enough now that if it doesn’t flow we cannot force it. Creativity is like the land; it goes through seasons too. It shifts and you cannot force the seasons to change in both the land around us and how our creativity flows.

Returning home, beginning to work again with the soil, words have already felt they are returning. Like the plants pushing up once again there is an emergence happening in my soul again. Nothing ground breaking, but like the world around me on the land it eventually all opens and becomes something at once. Something abundant and life giving that eventually sustains for quite some time if nurtured well.

I think it’s so important to have awe for spring. To enjoy it when it feels it is all seen solely in the tiny moments and details. To find the absolute wonder of the detail of a leaf opening, because it reminds us just how to feel the same for ourselves when we find ourselves just beginning again. To marvel at the beauty of hesitation and the rawness of developing a blossom. Most importantly to recognize and celebrate the immense work that was unseen beneath the surface simply to arrive ready to unfurl in the fresh cold air.

It feels very good to find and discover a new love for spring. To see its reminders, lessons, gifts as it begins the beautiful details that will bring fruition and gifts all their own when they overlap into something soon enough.

02/26/2024

Been spending a lot of time dreaming about the land here and what it is capable of. The things that can become and the things that are already. Winter has been odd, but these mild days are bringing life to the ideas that sat boxed away while I waited for the sun’s evident return.

I am tying up class work, teaching, and so much more as this month progresses to an end. When things end other things are allowed to have space. A lesson I love watching unfold. These spaces feel more vibrantly shaping in my head and even in my dreams. So as one thing ends I see where the next things may begin.

02/24/2024

My favorite thing about winter is the marks from all the wildlife in the snow. Snow may cover many blemishes and the work yet to be done, but it also lends to telling the story we cannot as easily read in other seasons.

As the days shift, the snow melts, and the tracks blend back into the soil I will miss the little tales told all over the land here. The one that even in a cold and quiet season makes me feel warm with company when on walks around here. To see the movement of the animals of all kinds that tell me of who also enjoys this place we call home.

Though in 4-5 months the grasses will rise and wave in varying tones of green. That magic is all its own, but I love observing the land, the movements of the animals, and the way I truly feel part of a world that many times can feel invisible to me.

02/21/2024

It’s the little things in February. The way the light comes from behind the clouds. The growing moon each night making long shapes through the trees in the woods, exposing what usually hangs in the edges and dark of the forest. The way we extend every bit of the root veggies to make yet another meal. The way the sun feels warm in the afternoon in the south facing windows. The way the stars can be seen at times. The eggs emerging again from the chickens. The comfort of my favorite sweater. The combo of a fire to be warmed by and the sun glowing on the sky promising green things to come. The way the fennel smells in the garden even when it is brown and faded. The things that gather on the counter. The sprouting onions…garlic…potatoes reminding us the energy is shifting now both in them and us.

These last days of February feel like the sign of the shift. They feel liminal yet they hold fresh energy that is tugging us into a new season along the way. The light. The snow. The sunsets and sunrises evidently earlier and later than they once were. All of it brings renewal that isn’t going without note.

02/16/2024

There are days in winter and as the seasons progress where there is this liminal space where winter is clearly shifting yet we are no where near spring. It suspends us between feeling we must enjoy the last of what is so special of winter particularly when the cold and snow have been sparse this year. Yet it also pulling our attention to spring; the potential of seeds, the green things that will grow in the summer sun, the ways we will grow right along with the plants.

I watch the light shift and emerge on the hills in the evening. Painting light on the clouds, pines, and bark of the trees and am reminded of the gift of this tension that pulls at us and keeps us relishing in what is already here in this season.

When summer comes, i will miss the way the light floats through the skeletal shapes of the trees and the sunsets that just envelope us in color each night from February to May. Other things will be traded for these moments, but it leaves me feeling thankful for the glowy light that is returning and most evident now as we begin to prepare ourselves and all the dreams for the season that is evidently ahead of us a little more every day.

02/12/2024

February always has this feeling to it as if there is staleness in routine, yet some level of comfort and underlying anxiousness to begin stirring. I have always equated it to my favorite wool sweater that I pull out in winter as my comfort, but at some point gets a little itchy and I look to change out of it as if that will change the reality.

Even for us winter loves there can be moments where we are ready to shake what was for what will be, but remembering we cannot rush the necessity and routines of winter but instead look for the gifts, the highlights, and beauty that linger in the tiniest places like the moss around the tree or the radiant sunrise or the changing of the light in our homes. It is subtle and just beginning and it’s lovely to watch.

I wrote a lot this week on my substack if you want more from this piece and others. You can always get the writings free to your inbox by signing up at megangilger.substack.com

02/05/2024

2 weekends ago I snuck away for a solo trip up north. I didn’t tell anyone around me really. I just wanted to drive with my thoughts. Stay somewhere that left me nothing to do but write and be with my thoughts. The last 6 months have opened me in the most profound and powerful ways. I have become and along the way seen who I am meant to be in this land.

I wandered shorelines alone. Watched ice move over the big lake. Counted waves. Got lost on a dirt road. Lived with a notebook in my lap writing words to something that birthed this summer in me. I thought about the relationships in my life. The new ones. The ones that have transitioned with me. The ones that opened me to who I am. The ones that bring me a lot of joy.

I spent time reading by a fire. I let things come to the page of my mind and not judge them and I came home in a place ready to begin. There are still questions, fears, imposter syndrome, anxieties, bags sitting there for me to process, but I felt a flow in me beginning. I felt I grasped what was unfolding in mt life and that I could hold it with clear eyes.

2023 was a year that broke through much of my past self. I burned a lot of who I was emotionally and in the ashes I found things I never could have space for. It’s why I shut off this space. I had to realign who I was here and in life outside of who I was holding on to. It was the last part of letting go of one chapter.

Now though I resonate with the flowing water, the ground revealing itself, the pines and cedars, and even the calm and clear waters. I feel at home and prepared for what is ahead no matter what it may be. I am aware of what I can do what I cannot. I can see all the paths clearly and i have never been more content and at peace with my life. The thing is it all revolves around how i feel about myself nothing else and that’s the lesson I took from this last year. Contentment and peace comes from the depths of self and learning how to be with ourselves in a loving and open way. Everything falls in place from there.

02/04/2024

I miss the snow falling and the cold biting me but I refuse to complain about the sun ever in the winter in the north. Every time it reappears after long stretches of missing other than to fill the day with a reminder that it is daylight not night, I am reminded how far we have come from the shortest day in December. I remember that one day at a time we are closer to the height of the light once again and with that comes so many things that also need these low light days too.

I have papers laid out and ideas stacked in my head of what this next growing season will involve. Dreams only offered when the snow covers the brown and decay. These things will take many winters to see to their full potential but as with anything in our life, the seeds and dreams must be started long before it ever becomes evident.

So planning to enjoy this weird warmth in February and the sun with it. Plan to use it properly and give thanks where I can. The days till spring are perfectly close and far away still despite the weathers disorienting rhythm at the moment.

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Let’s have a different conversation about our gardens. The garden speaks so many truths and this year I am once again learning and being challenged. Maybe this turning august wind can be a new conversation in our lives. How will you let your garden be wilder? How will you allow things to teach to be the same in your life?

Got cabbage worms? I got a list of low intervention ways on the blog this week all about handling them. One of the best ways?! Bring in companion plants and interplant. Also a surprising way is to plant red or purple varieties. They are less likely to get bites and an influx of cabbage worms. More on freshexchange.com/blog this week #garden #gardenhacks #gardening #redcabbage #cabbageworms

Want bushy and abundant basil? Get pinching deep into the plant from the get go! This plant I have been pinching repeatedly since May! But starting now with any that are single stem is good. Go down as deep as possible into the plant to where there are 2 new sets of stems. Then take what you pinch and use it by either dehydrating, I give 2 ways on my blog or you can just enjoy with your salad or dinner that evening. By going deep into the plant the plant will not go woody as quickly as just pulling the flower. It keeps tender stems far longer on the plant. Ps. There is a great story in @bonappetitmag this month all about basil! Highly suggest. Growing basil is one of my favorite things!! We have 5 varieties in the garden this year #basil #growingbasil #gardenhacks #gardentips #gardening #growyourownfood #gardeninspiration #gardenideas

Everyone is always asking how deer don’t destroy this garden around our home. It is simple… we used their lack of good depth perception to guide how we protect our garden. We created a natural border of ecosystem building plants of viburnum, hawthorn, and hazelnuts to create a “fence” of varying heights and depths to protect our area while creating a natural sage haven for birds to feast and nest. It also has distracted squirrels by providing a great harvest of nuts late in the season when they are storing food. If you want to learn more. Sign up for our newsletter or head to the blog or podcast for an in-depth take on why this works.

It can be hard to know when to harvest garlic but here is what I do: 1. Are the tips beginning to crisp on the leaves? 2. Are the leaves closest to the ground dried and dead looking? 3. Pull one head to check. If it is the size you would like pull more that look similar. We have a large amount of garlic so we will do it all in stages based upon how long ago I nabbed their scape on the hard neck it is usually 2-3 weeks roughly from when scapes were pulled. Let the garlic dry with soil on for 4 weeks where they will be dry and get plenty of air flow. #garlic #garlicharvest #gardening

More bolting talk! It’s super normal and okay. Here are a few tips to help.

Cilantro going to bolt is common and actually has nothing to do with your gardening skills. In fact cilantro is a spring herb and for it to bolt at the beginning of summer has nothing to do with anything you did. But what about if you want it for your salsas this summer! I would suggest growing in a shady or cooler spot all summer. Doing succession direct seedings that are dense and mowing it to 1 inch above the soil will keep you enjoying it most of the summer but I will direct seed nearly every 2-3 weeks depending on our heat. The good news is if you want you can let some go to seed so you can let it provide you seed for saving. Saved seed from cilantro is actually coriander seed like you buy at the store. So even what might feel like a failure is both not and it will provide you with something you can still savor and enjoy! #cilantro #growcilantro #homegarden #herbgrowing #herbgarden #bolting #garden #gardening #gardeningtips #michigangardening #michigangarden