Anxious for Leaf Drop

My guess is that if you find any willow grower on Instagram, nearly every year you will find the same post around November or December: “Leaves are dropping”.

It’s what we’re waiting for the second growing season ends. We want to see the colors of the rods that have been hiding all summer. We want to get to harvesting but we’d also just settle for seeing what the harvest will be like.

Abby and I keep casing the willow beds down by the horse barns in between chores in the hopes that the leaves have cleared out. . . But nope. They’re hanging in there.

Farming willow is a study in patience. People growing fruit trees have it far worse than I. But it still takes willow 3-4 years to properly mature. Some produce beautiful straight willow rods within their second year. But my Green Edna is only just deciding to grow upright and stop squiggling along the ground branching into twisted chicken foot shapes in their 3rd year. Every dark purple or dark brown variety I grow, seems to not want to produce any decent amount of rods until it’s been in the ground for a minimum of four years—then they tend to explode with vigor.

Four years is a long time to wait for anything, but most especially for enough willow to keep me busy weaving AND teaching classes AND replanting more every year.

The worst part is sometimes a willow variety thrives for two years and then just gives up. So now there’s a hole in the bed that gets new willow planted that won’t be ready for another 4 years. Rinse and repeat.

I found willow too late in life. I’m glad I found it at all and stumbled into my life’s calling. But the waiting with less time ahead of me than behind is rough. It’s, hands down, the hardest part.