Photo credit: Mark Bialek
Amy Ramsey watches the sun rise over her neighbor’s field every morning. She’s up before dawn, a strong cup of coffee in hand, ready to open her barns and feed her animals. Wild Apple Farms is named for the centuries-old apple trees scattered across the property, and Ramsey strives to live in harmony with the land, respecting the rhythm of the year. “There’s a feeling of peace and contentment that doesn’t exist anywhere else,” she says. “If you pause to pay attention, you can smell the seasons changing.”
In 1994, stressed out from college and her impending entry into law school, Ramsey rented a plot of land in Dexter, thinking a garden would be calming. Instead, it changed the path of her life. “The second I got out here, it felt like home.”
Ramsey raised two children here, and now, as a widow, she farms the land alone, caring for sheep, ducks, chickens, and bees. She can name every herb on her property, whether cultivated or wild, and uses many of them in her own herbal medicines. She also grows vegetables and makes soap and beeswax candles to sell along with her eggs, honey, and maple syrup. She stocks her produce at local outlets including Argus Farm Stop in Ann Arbor, Agricole Farm Stop in Chelsea, the Dexter Mill, and the Chelsea Farmers Market. Her on-site store operates on the honor system: neighbors stop by, leave cash, and take what they need.
Related: Old Building, New Mission
What starts as morning chores and careful tending ends up on dining tables throughout the region. “We have the economy of Ann Arbor and the small-town markets that support farmers like me.” She remembers helping her son, at just eight years old, set up a table at the very first Dexter Farmers Market.
The community is also what makes Dexter home, which sometimes shows itself in unexpected ways. When Ramsey’s cat, Miu, gave birth in a neighbor’s barn, the neighbors welcomed the litter and even kept one of the kittens. Once, Ramsey woke to a noise and discovered two horses grazing on her lawn. “It was every little girl’s dream,” Ramsey says. “Horses appearing like magic at midnight.” She soon realized that the horses belonged to her neighbor Kathleen, and led them home along the road in the moonlight.
But farming isn’t all magic horses and surprise kittens. It’s hard, constant work. Ramsey’s always facing unpredictable weather and the economic pressures of competing with large-scale agriculture. But she believes in neighborhood farms, and that special sense of a village coming together.
“It’s so rare now,” Ramsey says, gently relocating a bee that’s landed on her chair. “I think it’s almost ready to be lost. We need to protect it. If we lose small farms, we lose the soul of the food chain.”