A Leap of Faith
Duskwood began with a desire for a different kind of life.
We were living in Ontario when we started dreaming about owning enough land to live closer to nature. When we realized the kind of property we wanted was out of reach there, we widened our search across Canada and kept coming back to the forests of Nova Scotia.
So we took a leap of faith. We sold most of what we owned, bought a camper, and moved east before we had even found the land that would become our home.
Eventually, we found a large wooded property in southern Nova Scotia with a 1.5-kilometre private road winding in from the highway — something Tyler had always dreamed of. It was quiet, wild and filled with balsam fir.
The name Duskwood actually came from World of Warcraft. Tyler had always liked the sound of it. Years later, it feels surprisingly fitting for a property where the sun rises over a sea of fir trees.
Learning to Work With the Forest
When we arrived from Ontario, we could barely distinguish one evergreen from another.
That has changed considerably.
After years spent working among the trees, we have learned to recognize different species, understand what makes a tree healthy, identify pests and disease, and see how the trees interact with the mosses and plants around them.
Somewhere along the way, we both became a little obsessed with trees — with how much they provide and how rewarding it is to work with them.
Before we bought the property, much of the land had been planted as a Christmas tree lot and then left largely unmanaged for around twenty years. The trees had grown densely together, competing for light, airflow and nutrients. Many were struggling.
We wanted to thin the forest so the strongest trees could thrive, but restoring the property would take an enormous amount of time.
So we started asking a simple question:
Could the forest help us pay for the work it needed?
That question eventually became Duskwood Farm.
Building a Business From What We Had
We didn't arrive with a large budget for machinery or farm infrastructure, so our approach to farming was a little backwards.
Instead of deciding what we wanted to produce, we looked at what we already had.
And what we had was an extraordinary amount of fir.
We experimented. Our first year, we sold wreaths at farmers' markets. The next year, we tried selling fresh brush wholesale. By our third year, we began offering wreaths online.
That was the beginning of the business Duskwood is today.
Our first wreaths were made in a homemade lean-to greenhouse, often while November rain and snow came down around us. It wasn't glamorous, but customers loved what we were making.
Since then, we have sold out every Christmas season.
We continue to grow deliberately, choosing a level of production the two of us can manage while still giving every wreath the attention it deserves.
The farm has grown with us. We moved from that greenhouse into an unheated workshop and eventually into the heated, powered workshop we use today — complete with indoor plumbing.
For two people who came here dreaming of building an off-grid life in the woods, those ordinary conveniences still feel like a pretty extraordinary accomplishment.
From Our Woodland to Your Door
Nearly every step of making a Duskwood wreath happens here on the farm.
We head into the forest with electric chainsaws, pruning shears and hand tools to selectively thin trees and harvest fresh greenery. The trunks are kept for future firewood to heat our home and workshop.
The brush comes back from the woods in our little farm truck, where every branch is sorted and trimmed by hand.
We are particular about what makes it into a Duskwood wreath. Anything damaged or unattractive is mulched. We want every wreath to feel abundant — thick, fragrant and beautifully green.
Using our own designs and methods, we shape each wreath in the workshop before adding the finishing details. Throughout the year, I make our bows by hand from natural cotton-linen ribbon and gather pine cones from the forest for decorations.
Because our wreaths are made here and shipped directly from the farm, the time between making one and its arrival at someone's home can be only a few days.
No long warehouse stays. No months spent travelling through a supply chain.
Just fresh greenery from our woodland, made into something beautiful and sent on its way.
More Than a Wreath
Our rule is simple:
We would never send someone a wreath we wouldn't be thrilled to receive ourselves.
We want it to be lush, fragrant and beautiful enough to make someone stop for a moment when they first open the box.
Ideally, receiving one feels a little like getting a hug from your favourite grandparent — warm, familiar and full of care.
That feeling matters because our wreaths become part of other people's Christmas traditions.
I didn't grow up celebrating Christmas, which may be part of why I love the season so much now. For seven weeks every year, our workshop becomes thoroughly Christmas.
There are decorations everywhere, Christmas movies playing in the background, the smell of balsam fir filling the room and, despite Tyler's objections, usually a fair amount of singing along to Christmas music.
Outside, November in Nova Scotia may be cold and wet.
Inside, it feels like the warmest time of the year.
