Ellen Schomer skips out of her yellow- shingled cottage — a bowl full of Hijiki salad in hand — ready to harvest the morning crop of vegetables, greens and flowers that grow prolifically on her one-acre plot of fertile land off Route 216.

A set of Nepali peace flags, strung high above a portion of her backyard garden, flutter overhead. Giant yellow sunflowers and brilliant orange marigolds border the property which is lined with rows and rows of baby greens — greens with names like kyona mizuna, mustard, shungiku, tatsoi, spinach, bok choi, purslane, yukina savoy, mâche, komatsuna, amaranth, chervil, kale, shiso, chard and minutia.

The garden is also chock full of several kinds of edible flowers, an assortment of radishes, all sorts of tomatoes, beets, parsnips, tiny, long pinkish-purple globes called “fairytale eggplants” and “bambino” eggplants, kale, collard greens, scallions, string beans, lima beans and peppers of every color, size and shape.

Welcome to South County Greens, home of “ecologically grown, field-washed baby greens,” and Ellen Schomer’s dream come true.

When she came upon her first “salad farm,” several years ago in Hawaii, where she lived for seven years, she was instantly inspired and set her sights on finding herself a “small piece of land” to dig and call her own.

On the road and in the driveway, small, hand-painted signs point the way to the garden and the large white hoop house that covers an enormous stainless steel commercial refrigerator, stocked with fresh veggies and greens, neatly labeled and priced. A cash box, a scale and a notebook sit on a small Formica table along with a bathtub, assorted bags and a great big box of tomatoes.

“We use the honor system,” Schomer says, adding that her customers will often leave her messages, notes and explanations of their weighing methods. A former commercial fisherman and bait stringer, Schomer spent much of the past 30 years living in various ports of call, on or next to oceans.

“But mostly in New England,” says the petite and very fit 51 year old, who arrived in Rhode Island “via Chicago, New Jersey, France, Hawaii and Cape Cod.”

Four years ago, she bought the Bradford property with the intention of setting down roots and growing greens for a living.

Instead, she said, it’s been “a heartbreak in process.” Farming, no matter how small, is not always a moneymaking business, she came to realize. A few years ago, Schomer went back to school to study massage therapy. Now, in addition to her gardening responsibilities, she practices massage therapy at a spa on Block Island and in her offices in Charlestown.

Schomer’s sandy hair is still wet from an early morning surfing jaunt to Matunuck on this morning.

A small, sharp harvesting knife in hand, Schomer smiles broadly as she watches a recently adopted kitten named Matty tease her large, friendly 10-yearold dog Loki. Loki is taking her defeat good-naturedly.

Schomer is pretty certain that Loki, adopted when she was living on the “big island” of Hawaii, is part Gordon setter. Matty was recently adopted by her roommate, Jeff Backer, who is busy hoeing and weeding in another part of the garden. The animals’ antics keep the farmers amused as they pick and weed and hoe and tend to chores around the farm.

The good news, they say, is that neither of them has had to buy a single vegetable since early last spring. The garden provides them with plenty of the veggies, herbs and greens that cost a pretty penny at the local green grocers. Customers may be few in number, they say, but they sure seem pleased with the variety, availability, price and taste of the produce found at the farm, Schomer says. How could they not be? With locally grown, organic foods preferred by chefs, gourmands, and those concerned with good health, South County Greens is a gold mine of a farm for everyone interested in eating well.

Schomer and Backer estimate they spend about 20 hours a week apiece working in the garden, this on top of their work in other jobs.

Backer, a research assistant at the University of Rhode Island for community ecologist Evan Preisser, is the perfect roommate and fellow farmer, Schomer says, since his major interests lie in agriculture and the environment. He spent several months living and farming on a mountaintop in Papua, New Guinea

“Right now, he’s big into hilling,” she laughs, as she watches Backer, on his knees between rows, make small mounds of dirt around plants of baby lettuces.

Backer calls vegetable gardening “very satisfying work” and sees it as a sort of “reclamation process.” As a biologist, he’s a big proponent of home gardening, especially when it comes to avoiding pesticides and genetically modified crops. Plus, he says, it’s much cheaper, and “never radioactive.”

The radioactive comment is in reference to the recent approval by the FDA to allow certain foods to be irradiated without having to be labeled as such.

Although Schomer’s salad farm venture has not been a financial success — she would sell the business and the property in a minute to the “right buyer” if he or she comes along — it has been a tremendous success in the more important realms. She has met the most delightful people, she says, people she would otherwise not have met.

And then there’s the abundant, ever-ready supply of the freshest, finest and tastiest of vegetables — right in her own backyard.