Blackberry Planting: A Two-Day Saga of Mud, Mess, and Finally, a Little Calm

Planting our blackberries at North Forest Farms wasn’t a single-day task—it was a two-day saga that started with chaos and ended with something that almost felt peaceful… almost.

Day 1: The Prep Day From Hell

I had spent weeks getting the orchard site ready on paper—mapping out the rows, planning the trellis layout, marking the spacing, and organizing every tool, piece of equipment, and supply I thought I’d need. I had convinced myself I was ready.

But the land had other ideas.

It had rained for days leading up to prep day, and by the time I stepped foot on the site, it was one giant mud pit. The kind of mud that tries to steal your boots every time you lift your foot. The kind that makes a half-mile walk feel like a half-marathon.

And of course, I still had to carry all my gear to the orchard—chainsaw, gas, stakes, tools, gloves, and everything else—dragging it one load at a time through slippery trails. By the time I got everything out there, I looked like someone who had willingly wrestled a swamp.

Then came the final stretch of clearing. There were just a few stubborn branches and chunks of debris left in the way of where the blackberry rows needed to go. Nothing major… or so I thought.

The chainsaw had other plans.

It sputtered out. Refused to restart. Sat there dead in my hands like it was judging me for trying to be proactive. Standing alone in the rain, surrounded by muck, I realized I had one option left:

A hatchet.

So yes—prep day ended with me swinging a hatchet in the mud, slipping, sliding, smashing through roots and branches like someone who was equal parts determined and absolutely over it. It was slow, frustrating, and messy as hell.

By the time I finished, the site was ready… but I definitely wasn’t. I dragged all the equipment back through the mud, soaked, exhausted, and questioning every life choice that led me to that moment.

I went to bed that night unsure how I’d even wake up with enough energy to finish the job.

But then came Day 2.

Day 2: 6 AM, a Calm Morning, and Finally—Planting

Despite the exhaustion, I woke up at 6 AM. Something about knowing the blackberries were waiting pushed me out the door. And to my surprise, the next morning wasn’t chaotic at all.

It was calm. Cool. Almost peaceful.

The site was still a mess—mud everywhere, holes full of water, and the aftermath of yesterday’s battle—but the air was still, the woods were quiet, and for the first time the orchard didn’t feel like it was working against me.

With the biggest clearing done the day before, the actual planting felt… doable.

Slow, but doable.

The mud was still ankle-deep in spots, and every step required strategy, but the weather finally played nice. Row by row, plant by plant, I dug holes, worked around puddles, and tucked each blackberry into the ground. It wasn’t glamorous and it definitely wasn’t clean, but without the chaos of the rain or the chainsaw meltdown, it felt like everything finally clicked.

By the time the last plant was in, I was covered in mud again—but this time, it felt different. It felt like progress instead of struggle.

The Lesson in All of It

If this two-day adventure taught me anything, it’s that farming rarely rewards you on the day you expect it to. Prep day was a disaster—pure mud, broken equipment, slipping and sliding, and feeling like the land was pushing back on every decision.

But the next morning? Calm. Productive. Quietly satisfying.

Sometimes the work feels impossible. Sometimes the mud tries to swallow your boots. Sometimes the chainsaw gives up before you do.

But you keep going.

Because underneath the mess, underneath the rain, underneath the frustration… there’s a row of blackberry plants now sitting in the ground at North Forest Farms. A real beginning. One earned the hard way.