Three sister businesses growing out of one twenty-acre Appalachian hillside in Nicholas County, West Virginia. A regenerative chestnut-anchored agroforestry farm, a cold-climate tree nursery, and a one-bench woodworking shop — held together by a shared belief that resilience is made, not bought.
The grove is a twenty-acre hillside in Nicholas County, West Virginia — about six-and-a-half cleared and nine-and-a-half wooded — with a farmhouse, a nursery, a small workshop, and a chestnut canopy we're building around what was already growing. Abigail and Josh bought the land in 2024. Two years later, it's still the same hillside, and it's a different place. That's the gist of what we mean by gathering.
Three of us run businesses on the land. One sells the harvest — preserves, cut flowers, herbs, beeswax. One propagates the next generation of cold-hardy fruit trees. One builds furniture from what falls or has to come down. The businesses are independent. The land is the common ground.
This page is the village square. The shops live a click away — and so does the longer-form writing that the three businesses share, because the work of stewarding a small piece of land turns out to be one continuous conversation.
Two years on the same West Virginia hillside has taught us about three things: how slowly soil actually changes, how quickly weather doesn't, and how much of what we thought was "experience" was just one good year, repeated. A long essay on what stewardship looks like at year two — jointly written by the three of us.
Read the essay →
The first real crop off the maidens we planted in 2024. A good year, but for unexpected reasons. (Goldberry Grove)
The variety on the catalog page is half the answer. The rootstock is the other half — and it's the half the catalog rarely talks about. (At The Grove Nursery)
The rule of thumb is one year per inch. For our slab it took closer to six. Why. (GGG Woodworking)