Photos: Courtesy of Powisset Farm

Meryl never ceases to amaze. Read below what “potting soil day” entails for her.

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Meryl LaTronica
Farm Manager, Powisset Farm
PRK Guest Contributor

There is a special day that comes once a year for me. A day that, like a jack-in-a-box, even when I know it’s coming, always takes me by surprise. A day that holds both the incredible excitement of opening a birthday package from your best friend who lives miles away and the nervousness of meeting someone for a first date; hoping it will all go OK. I know that’s a lot of emotion to put onto potting soil, but potting soil day is always epic, hopeful and one of the markers for me that the new season is upon us!

The potting soil arrives at the farm on an 18-wheeler. The truck somehow maneuvers its way into the small section of farm driveway that is free from snow, in between two snow banks much taller than I. The wheels spin as it squeezes off the curvy country (ish) road that our farm is located on, and I imagine the truck toppling over with 20 pallets of soil spilling onto the street. I push that thought from my mind and let the truck driver manage gracefully.

Once on the icy farm parking lot, he opens the back gate in one swift move and the grinding sound of the door sliding up let’s me know it’s time. I hop on our largest tractor, fitted on the bucket with its misshapen forks, ready to try to lift the immense bags of soil.

He pulls each pallet of soil to the edge of the truck, and I inch forward on the tractor towards the pallets. My co-worker guides the placement of the forks, telling me with hand symbols if I need to move the bucket up, down, or curl it forward or backwards. All is quiet. I am in the slowest gear, creeping towards the first pallet. I’m in.

He indicates that I should lift the forks now, and pull back from the trailer. With one fork slightly smaller than the other, the bag of soil — which holds two yards, weighs about half a ton and is as tall as I am (5 ft) — tips slightly left and sways the tractor slightly to one side. I feel the back tires of the tractor tremble slightly, trying to hold on to the ground and keep both of us from tipping forward, aided by the large implement that we’ve attached to counter balance the heavy soil.

I lift slowly, my breathing shallow but calm. I pull away from the truck. I lower the pallet slowly and drive the soil under the barn where it will be until the snow melts around the greenhouse. I lower it to the ground, release it and the tractor sighs and gets ready for the next 15 pallets. One by one, I move the soil, breathe easier, empty the truck, and it’s done.

The truck somehow leaves as smoothly as it arrived. I look over at the pallets of soil, all lined up, ready to fill thousands of plug trays, and nourish our seedlings for the coming season. On March 1st we will crack open the first bag of soil and begin our 2011 farming season.