The Harvest Keeper

Robust, refreshing, decadent…these were the words used to describe the Mitchell Family Farm’s award-winning cherry harvest last summer. An abundance of plump and juicy cherries was picked steadily from June through August, first reaching the local farmer’s markets in the Okanagan and, eventually, grocery retailers in western Canada as well as Washington State. It had been a hugely successful cherry harvest. The Mitchell family had worked hard over the past decade, buying and converting a foreclosed dairy farm with a modest five-acre spread, into a freshly tilled and soiled cherry farm. Bob Mitchell, the land curator and farm owner, had aspirations of one day building a small vineyard on the land, and to hopefully try his hand at producing wine in the now booming Okanagan wine region. Recognition of his cherries as being some of the best that the valley had to offer, certainly provided a spring in Bob’s step and his enthusiasm had become infectious.

The success of last year’s harvest, combined with the great potential for further growth, led the Mitchell family to make some big decisions for the coming year. Following the Christmas holidays, Heather Mitchell, Bob’s wife and matriarch of the house, would take a leave from her teaching job in nearby Kelowna and split her days homeschooling their two sons, Cole, aged sixteen, and Travis, aged fourteen. Their school day would begin in the mornings at 8:00 and wrap up at 11:30. For the remainder of the day, until called to help with dinner at 4:30, the boys were to work as farmhands, learn the tricks of the trade, and ensure that all tools and irrigation equipment were kept in proper working order. The family goal was to have the Mitchells match, or even surpass, the previous year’s wildly successful cherry harvest.

The farm grounds could be described simply as a heavenly oasis. Nestled comfortably in the Okanagan Valley and surrounded by the foothills of the Canadian Rocky Mountains, the grounds featured six symmetrical rows of cherry trees extending roughly the length of a football field then disappearing into a rich, dense pine forest. The forested area remained untouched but for a lightly cut, dirt trail that Cole and Travis had dug, leading to the tree house that Bob helped them build two summers ago. The roughly two acres of pine forest held promise for Bob's future vineyard plans. The tree house, though, was to remain intact regardless of what the future held. Fully stocked with board games, an archery set and a telescope, it served as an awesome little hideaway for the boys.

The most magical feature of all, however, was the appearance, perched each night on top of the tree house, of two barn owls. The owls had constructed a nest that was connected to the solid trunk holding the treehouse,

and coexisted rather peacefully with the boys and their rustic tree shack. The boys rarely saw the nocturnal birds during the day, but they were able to observe and identify some of their features at dusk and into the evening. Although they looked almost identical, they discovered, through research, that the one with a slightly darker coat was female. They named her Emma. The lighter owl was the male and was called Leo. For two straight summers, Cole and Travis had studied the behavior of their barn owl friends.

The Mitchell Family Farm had switched to entirely organic cherry production exactly two harvest seasons prior. This meant that Bob had sworn off using any rodenticides or insecticides for the cherry harvest. This posed a risk, at the time, of putting the harvest in a vulnerable position, as Bob knew that there was a groundhog/gopher problem previously in a neighboring field that had become desolate and abandoned. There was also an abundance of field mice, although they posed a less direct threat to the harvest. The groundhogs could often reach up and jump to the overhanging branches, capturing and devouring some of the juiciest of cherries. The field mice would be left to scavenge the ones that had fallen or were discarded by the groundhogs.

Reflecting over time, the Mitchell family looked into some patterns and trends that had contributed to the successful organic cherry harvest. Of course, the enlightened people of Kelowna and surrounding areas definitely preferred organic over mass, mainstream produce, but that did not explain the noticeable output of cherries over the past two summers, compared to the seven earlier seasons.

It was Cole who first noticed what the family would later come to refer to as “The Harvest Keepers”. While in the treehouse one starlit night, he heard the unmistakable long high-pitched call of a barn owl. Travis peered through binoculars over the moonlit cherry field. There they were, Emma and Leo, hovering over the trees at low trajectory and with stealth-like efficiency. This was their hunting time and as carnivores, they were dialed in on returning to the nest with a catch. With combined efforts, they would easily swoop down, often poking their sharp talons into the ground, to capture a groundhog. Their magnificent wingspan allowed them to coast through much of the night, until the prey was captured. Cole and Travis were thrilled to discover that, regardless of how long and far Emma and Leo ventured out for their hunt, they always made it back to the treehouse nest. There seemed to be a bond or kinship, if not directly with the boys, then certainly with the cozy treehouse structure. Bob and the Mitchell family soon embraced the owls and considered them to be the integral piece in keeping the harvest safe from predators.

During the Winter months and following the boys' shift to home school, Cole and Travis would often snowshoe or cross-country ski to the back of the cherry field and into the pine forest. They kept a small, propane-fueled hot plate in the treehouse, as the cross-country ski adventures would often involve a sustenance break and some hot chocolate or Cole’s favorite, fried pizza pockets. The owls' nest was still firmly connected to the roof of the treehouse and the trunk of the large pine. Firm, and intricately designed to endure some of the harsh weather patterns of the Okanagan, the nest was blanketed by rich green coniferous branches.

It was during one of the ski breaks when Travis commented that they had not seen Emma and Leo fly over the fields during the winter months. Did the pair migrate all the way down to California or Mexico, only to return in a perfectly-timed fashion in order to hunt and guard their cherry field? Was this the way of their owl friends? Cole decided to investigate. Using a step-ladder he climbed up to the top of the treehouse to have a look for any exit or entry patterns in the nest. What he saw, left him both startled and filled with joy. Leo was standing and looking directly at Cole, while Emma was sitting comfortably and appeared to be dozing in and out of sleep. The boys had discovered, at that moment, that the owls do not typically hibernate, nor had they migrated south to avoid the snowy and cold winter.

This left the boys wondering about the food supply for the owls, during the harsh winter months. The groundhogs, which Emma and Leo had seemingly preyed upon during harvest, did in fact hibernate and were likely inaccessible as a food source. This left squirrels or mice as a possible option, although there were not many of them to be seen on the farm. Would the owls have enough to eat?

In a somewhat desperate move, Cole separated the pepperoni from a couple of his hot pizza pockets. He stacked the meat onto a twig like a kebab and placed it on the treehouse roof in hopes that Leo would find it and bring it into the nest. Travis protested that they didn’t know if owls could safely eat pepperoni, but he gave in when he realized how empathetic and eager Cole was, to do anything he could to help their Owl friends and Harvest Keepers, Emma and Leo.

The boys then spent the remainder of the afternoon blazing through the pine forest on their cross-country skis. They had almost come full circle, back to the treehouse when they heard the ringing of the dinner bell, back at the house. Before darting off to chase the sweet, comforting smell of freshly-baked cherry pie, Cole took a quick lookup to the roof. He was pleased to see that the owls (presumably Leo) had taken the stick of pepperoni slices. Travis was still uneasy with this and insisted that once home and after dinner, they would research online, the best feed that might be available for the owls.

Their discussion was set aside when, once again, Heather Mitchell rang the dinner bell. They knew that if she had to ring it a third time, it meant dishwashing duty for a week. There was no time to waste as Cole glided with his skis, through the powdered snow. Travis quickly caught up and as they came closer to the house, took the lead. The brother rivalry and tension of the moment was interrupted, though, by a very welcome guest. Flying directly overhead with the magnificent wingspan, was Leo and, as the boys entered the house, the owl let out a high-pitched screech that seemed to have echoed through the entire valley. It was Leo’s way of giving thanks, or at least that is how Cole interpreted it.

At the dinner table that night, the boys described, in full detail, their encounter with the owls, both at the nest and in the field. Heather and Bob listened attentively but were also increasingly concerned. Bob became adamant in explaining to Cole that he should have checked with him first, before feeding the owls. As it turns out, pork, which is the main ingredient in pepperoni, is not considered safe for owls to consume. He added that it likely wouldn’t harm as a one-time incident but, moving forward, Bob was going to leave some raw beef close to the nest, as that would more accurately and safely reflect their natural diet. The next afternoon, Bob shaved some trimmings from the brisket that was set to begin slow-cooking overnight. He handed the bowl of raw meat scraps and fat to the boys and asked them to place it in the spot where the pepperoni had been left the previous day.

This time, the meal seemed to command an immediate response. Once Cole reached the roof of the treehouse, he was amazed to see Leo’s head protruding from the nest, eager to find out what treat the boys had in store for them.

Reinforcing the remarkable kinship that the Mitchells, and especially Cole, had with owls, Leo strutted over to the bowl while Cole was still holding it. He took a long piece of the meat into his sharp beak and took it into the nest, to share with Emma. This put the boys and the family at ease, knowing that the owls could now have a daily food source, albeit not as satisfying as the hunt, but enough to keep them going through the months of January and February.

With the arrival of March, came unseasonably warm temperatures. The snow had completely melted, leaving a rich, dense and moist soil base in the field. By mid-month, some small buds could be found on the tips of the branches. All of the early indicators seemed to be in place for what would be the most successful harvest season yet. A rare and unseasonably warm April would all but guarantee this. April and May did not disappoint, as the buds began to ripen. The Mitchells were anticipating an abundance of sweet cherries for this particular season, but it also seemed possible that the cherries could be ripe for picking before June. If picking could begin in late May, it would increase profitability for the farm. This could perhaps move Bob’s dream of expanding towards a vineyard, a couple of years ahead of schedule.

The Mitchells remained committed to offering an organic harvest once again this year. Without the use of rodenticides, Bob was optimistic and hopeful that Leo and Emma would continue to hunt the field for pests aimed at disrupting the harvest. One afternoon in early May, however, while making his daily rounds through the rows of cherry trees, Bob noticed some depletion and tampering of the trees that made up the east perimeter of the field. It was most definitely the work of groundhogs, as one tree, in particular, was almost entirely stripped of cherries, and some pits remained scattered on the ground at the base of the tree. These findings certainly raised some concern and the Mitchells had to quickly decide on their next move. Should Bob just spray the vulnerable area of the field? Could they afford to wait for the barn owls to come to the rescue? What if the owls had moved on entirely? Bob called for the boys and asked them to have a look at the nest to see if the owls were still there and if so, what kind of condition they were in.

There was a slight misty rain on that particular afternoon. The boys knew that typically, barn owls do not like to hunt in the rain and would much prefer dry conditions at dusk when hunting for their prey. This hopefully meant that they would be cuddled safely in the nest. Travis supported the step ladder once again so that Cole could reach the roof and look into the nest. Cole was simply mesmerized by what he saw. Emma was lying on her side at the back of the nest. She was calmly feeding and tending to four newborn chicks! Leo was also perched quietly and close to the nest entrance. This would likely explain Emma’s inactivity earlier in the year when the boys had visited. Emma had been pregnant and from the look of the small, fluffy feathers that were beginning to grow on the four chicks, she had likely given birth roughly three to four weeks ago.

Cole hurried back down the ladder, eager to share what he has discovered. The Mitchells were thrilled with the news. A full barn owl family would now reside on the Mitchell farm. There was one small problem with this news, though. This likely meant that there would be reduced pest control handled directly by the owls. Emma would need to remain in the nest for at least another 4 weeks and well into harvest season. Leo seemed, from Cole’s observation anyway, to be reluctant to leave the nest as well. The boys both believed that Leo preferred to stand guard and ensure the safe upbringing of the chicks. Could the owl family have grown too accustomed to receiving raw meat scraps from the house? This was a possibility, but the family remained hopeful that the innate predatory instincts of the owls would help to guide them when they were ready.

Bob continued to leave some scraps out but more sporadically, in hopes that a break in the feed pattern might trigger Leo to go on some solo hunting missions aimed at capturing some groundhogs. In the meantime, the boys worked tirelessly in the afternoons, scouring the perimeter of the property and uprooting any groundhog tunnels that they could find. Despite their efforts, there remained noticeable depletion on some of the trees. The pests were still getting in somehow.

The month of June became the time to begin picking the sweet cherries and moving them to local famer's markets. There was a decent, ripe supply but not as rich and abundant as Bob had hoped for. The family was hopeful that July and August would be much more active.

Towards the end of June, the family was having dinner on their cedar deck that all of the Mitchells had a hand in building. Bob had served homemade burgers and the scent of spiced meat on the grill, combined with the sweet smell of another freshly baked cherry pie from the house, left an appetizing, intoxicating smoke permeating the air.

The discussion at dinner, however, was not quite as pleasant. It seemed that the cherry production output had fallen short of Bob’s estimates for the month. The Mitchells were beginning to feel some financial pressure. It was decided by Heather, that she would teach Summer school and the boys could potentially work part-time at the lumberyard in Kelowna. The boys would help Bob with the harvest, on their off days. Nobody was entirely happy with this plan but they all agreed to do their part in keeping the farm running.

After dessert that evening, as the family remained on the deck, thinking and pondering the future, the stars began to come out in a dazzling display. The Big Dipper was easily identified. Next, Travis pointed out Orion, the brightest of constellations. He mentioned that Orion symbolized “The Hunter” and that its sighting might summon the owls back into action. With this thought, Bob went inside the house to get a CD player. In it was a CD recording of barn owl calls. He played the screeching call on a high volume about 5 or 6 times. The family sat in silence, looking and listening for a response. Bob played it once more, again the family sat patiently. This time, however, there came an unmistakable screech from the Pine Forest, and then another and another.

Suddenly a wide wing-span emerged from the trees, followed almost immediately by five others. There they were! Leo, Emma, and their baby chicks, that now appeared large and strong enough to join the flight and possibly, the hunt.

The family was ecstatic. They had created a line of communication with their barn owl friends. The owl family flew directly through the rows of cherry trees and over the deck. They were flying almost in a synchronized fashion. It was as if they wanted to convey a token of respect and appreciation to the family. The following night, Bob played the owl calls again, over the loudspeaker. This time, the owl family exited the forest almost immediately.

In the weeks that followed, the trees that had been depleted, began to replenish. July produced an abundant supply of some of the best cherries in the region. There was little to no groundhog interference to be detected. The boys decided not to work at the lumberyard and instead, remained home to help Bob with the harvest. Cole and Travis also made a point of trail-riding with their mountain bikes every day and, on their way back through the trails, they were sure to check out the nest. They had built a special bond with the owl family and both parties were now enjoying the rewards of this unique relationship. The cherry harvest was safe, flourishing even, thanks to this connection. Travis commemorated this by engraving and attaching a sign at the entrance to the pine forest. On the wooden sign, he had written a poem for the Harvest Keepers.

Stoic, strong, intent on keeping watch

Reminding us with our work and play, to pick it up a notch

For their duties are covered nightly and during the day we allow for sleep

So that after dusk they may fly the fields as guardians, helping our family harvest to keep