Field note
Feb 02, 2026
Peak winter in U.S. zone 6a / 6b
Peak winter in U.S. zone 6a / 6b
This time of year doesn’t offer spectacle.
It offers truth.
Snow and ice expose structure.
Cold reveals what’s anchored.
Compost temperatures show whether biology is resting or reorganizing.
Winter strips systems down to their essentials.
Nothing performs.
Everything tells.
Field observation: Water still moves, even when frozen
Before nutrients.
Before plants.
Before decisions.
Even under a foot of snow and ice, the land keeps communicating.
You can see it in:
• where meltwater briefly darkens soil before refreezing
• where surface crust breaks differently over roots
• where subtle channels appear after thaw cycles
• where low areas quietly collect memory
Every site has invisible architecture shaped by water.
Even in peak winter.
Especially in peak winter.
Most agricultural problems still aren’t nutrient problems.
They’re flow problems.
Water determines:
– oxygen availability
– microbial habitat
– mineral mobility
– root depth
– fungal networks
Right now, flow is slow and constrained — but it’s still teaching.
We don’t “add fertility.”
We restore pathways.
Observation: Roots are active before leaves ever think about it
Between snowfalls and ice melts, something subtle shows itself.
Not new foliage.
Vibrancy.
Surface reinvigoration appears as strength — not growth.
You see it in root crowns holding firm.
In grasses refusing to lay flat.
In perennials maintaining tension underground.
Compared to late fall, during selective root harvests when foliage visibly depleted, the contrast is striking.
Back then, energy was being pulled inward.
Now the land shows where vigor lives.
Winter makes it obvious:
Life is aggregated below the surface.
That’s where the work is happening.
That’s what we build around.
Observation: Minerals don’t enter plants directly
This remains one of the most misunderstood parts of growing.
Plants don’t primarily absorb raw minerals.
They receive biologically processed minerals, handed off through microbial intermediaries.
In healthy systems:
• fungi dissolve rock-bound phosphorus
• bacteria chelate iron and trace elements
• protozoa release plant-available nitrogen through grazing
• roots exchange sugars for micronutrients
None of that stops in winter.
It slows.
It concentrates.
It reorganizes.
This is why compost quality matters more than NPK numbers.
This is why biochar must be biologically charged.
This is why sterile inputs fail long-term.
Nutrition is negotiated.
Not dumped.
Right now, we’re deliberately holding back.
Active piles are finishing their thermophilic phase, but instead of feeding them, we’ve stopped turning and paused new inputs.
Leaf mold piles are settling and cooling.
They’re tall enough that even in single-digit temperatures, they would continue heating if we kept stimulating them.
So we don’t.
This is intentional restraint.
Nitrogen-rich materials are being stockpiled off to the side for a coordinated late-winter restart.
Cold is not the moment to force momentum.
Cold is the moment to let structure form.
After heat comes recolonization:
fungi returning
bacteria diversifying
predators establishing balance
That cooling window is when compost becomes living.
We wait for that.
We see the same pattern everywhere:
In soil.
In plants.
In people.
Restoration doesn’t start with stimulation.
It starts with foundations:
• moisture regulation
• mineral balance
• microbial diversity
• digestive signaling
• nervous system tone
Winter makes this obvious.
Nothing expands before it stabilizes.
You don’t push growth.
You remove friction.
Then life resumes.
This isn’t theoretical.
It’s practical sequencing.
In the middle of an abnormal cold snap — single digits for weeks, deep ice cover, limited thaw — we’re:
– mapping micro-flow paths whenever melt allows
– letting compost settle instead of driving temperature
– holding nitrogen inputs until biology is ready to receive them
– observing where roots show strength through surface crust
– resisting premature spring preparation
– allowing certain beds to remain dormant rather than forcing readiness
This time of year normally invites early transitions.
This year asks for patience.
So we listen.
Nature doesn’t rush.
It organizes.
Winter teaches restraint.
Our role isn’t to control outcomes —
it’s to become fluent in patterns.
So we watch.
We measure.
We wait when waiting is required.
And we prepare quietly for the moment biology signals “go.”
More soon from the field.