On April 27th of last year, the first seeds were sown on Rooftop Farm: peas (Cascadia) and cabbage (napa transplants).  The cabbage was for Greenpoint (Polish pride!) and the peas for their rhizobia, the lovely bacteria that help fix nitrogen into the soil in a plant-accessible way. 

It’s incredible to look back at the first spring of 2009 from the verdant May fields of 2010. Not only is the farm comparatively a month ahead of schedule, but in such a short period of time, the community of farm, farmers and food has grown exponentially.  The hundreds of people that have come to plant, harvest and eat at on the rooftop have grown the project larger than just seeds and soil, and into a truly inspirational piece of land.

The crops are doing well, too.  This year, I’ve already planted radishes, peas, mustard and lettuce mixes; transplanted kale, chard and sorrel, and sown flowers wherever the herbs aren’t already blooming along the easternmost rows.  Three new beehives dress the farm’s eastern rooftop, and a chicken coop build in partnership with a local high school sits ready to roll from row to row. 

When a brief lightening storm shook the roof late in the evening this past week, the following morning I woke to nitrogen-charged, neon green lettuces.  Their flavor, as it was last year with the rocky rooftop soil, was slightly salty and strong.  As the air cleared and the rain let up, I worked with the farm’s half-dozen apprentices to plant new seeds in the drying rooftop earth.  The sky was pewter and clearing, the sun peaking through the gray of clouds and city skyline.   The mockingbird that stalks around the secondary farm rooftop had returned, post-strorm to stike up every note in his songbook.  It was a great birthday.