Learning to Work With the Seasons | Life in Colombia

The dry season, or summer, felt unusually long and hot this year — hotter and drier than usual. Some days reached over 90 degrees at midday, making it nearly impossible to work.

Normally, it stays in the 70s, so maybe the humidity made it feel worse. Either way, the cool rains are a relief.

Since the last update, we’ve added two bunnies — Lola and Queenie. They’re adorable, even if Queenie is a bit sassy and likes to attack me at feeding time.

On hot days, they barely move, stretched out on their bellies. But when the rain comes early, they come alive — running and jumping around the balcony, clearly loving the cooler weather.

The rainy season also means another coffee harvest. Typically, harvest runs from November to January, but mine seems to be off by a few months — which I expected.

One of the first things I did when I moved here was thin out the coffee trees. There were too many packed into a small space, and many were diseased.

Cutting some back has improved airflow, and the cherries already look healthier. We’ll see how the harvest turns out, but I’m hopeful. Locals didn’t quite understand why I didn’t replant, but I’m not trying to run a coffee business.

My goal is diversity — growing a wide range of food and fruit trees instead of relying on a single crop, especially in a climate that supports so much.

The bunnies also have a practical purpose: manure. Rabbit manure is one of the best cold fertilizers, and even just two produce a surprising amount. As I build new garden beds, adding compost and manure has been the fastest way to prepare the soil.

Food prices have gone up, even in my small town, and after a year and a half, I’m finally seeing progress in growing my own food. It’s taken time. Some days I feel proud; other days I question everything — a normal part of gardening, I think.

Life in the countryside remains calm, but full. By the time I sit down most days, writing feels impossible. But today, the weather insisted I slow down. This morning I picked coffee, moved some pineapple, and took care of the animals — then finally sat to write.

I’ve learned to focus on one project a day. There’s always more to do, but trying to do everything at once only leads to burnout. Now, things feel more manageable.

The main goal is still the same: grow as much food as possible. I rotate projects to keep things interesting — next up might be painting the basement apartment to prepare for guests or volunteers, if the rain continues.

It’s funny — out here, I have no real schedule and full control over my time, yet I feel busier and more tired than ever. The difference is, this kind of tired feels meaningful.

Thank you to those of you still reading. I think I’m slowly finding my way back to writing.

XOXO

S