The Farm as a Microcosm
Quite frankly, it has been harder to write this summer than last. The reasoning is twofold. Firstly, Rich and I are burning our candle hard and fast at both ends as we are growing into a bigger pair of shoes. And secondly, this time that we are living through is so heavy in its chaos that my thoughts feel muddled by the time I get to my writing hour. The cascade effect is in full force this July, on the farm and beyond.
The chain reaction set forth by growing the farm was not unforeseen. We intentionally expanded our plantings this year, which calls for more equipment, more storage for our produce and more harvesting. And in the thick of our biggest harvest season yet, we're experiencing growing pains of the best kind: too much produce to store in our original walk-in cooler, so beautiful and bountiful and vibrant as our soils here grow healthier by the year. In anticipation of growing more seedlings for the field, we spent our "off season" on, building a bigger propagation house. We hoped to build a second walk-in cooler by the start of market season but were so preoccupied getting the field going, that we found ourselves with our pants down in mid-June, packing the existing cooler to the absolute gills in between markets, with no room for our bulk carrot harvest.
And so, when we were already working overtime in our high season, it was time to take on an obligatory cooler build. Luckily for us, my champion of a dad activated his passion for projects and he and Rich teamed up to build it out over the course of three days. As the clock strikes 10:00pm tonight and I write, Rich is finishing up the last of it so that in the coming weeks we can pull in all the carrots sitting tight, and the huge potato harvest too, not to mention the bulk beet harvest that awaits us. Not to mention the bed building either, transitioning our fields to a new bed system for the fall crops and next year's spring crops which will incorporate living pathways in between beds. Rich and I chock it all up to a sacrificial building year. Providing there are no major surprises next year, we can just farm with the infrastructure and equipment in place and all the physical, financial and temporal expenses well invested.
As I look around the farm, I realize that weeds have crept in more than usual, I am often late in refilling the bird feeders, our home garden is unruly and I literally need to weed the kids' sandbox. Also, I'd love to get to washing the siding on the northside of the farmhouse as it grows algae in the shady humidity of summer. Not to mention I've hardly taken my blackcap raspberry walks this season. This outsized pressure that I have felt about the farm is reminscent of another burden in life...
The overwhelming sensation that I feel in regards to the state of the world, and of our country. During a time when I feel my priorities couldn't be further from those of my country, when I lack trust in those at the helm, and when there is so much undue suffering here and worldwide, not to mention the fallout to come from this fast and loose administration, I am at times left feeling powerless and overcome. But then again, it's not entirely different from life on the farm.
This 30 acres is so vast for two of us. With Rich and I raising two kids alone and running a business, we will never tame the farm. There will always be a wild element to it, out of our control. The problems of our country and of the world are too big to wrap my mind and heart around. Modernity tricks us into believing the world is smaller than it is, with immediate access to news and information from every corner of it. The truth is, we can't save the "children starving in China" by eating our plates clean. I can't manicure 30 acres while being a fun mom and taking care of patrons too. But I can save our leftovers for busy farm days or contribute them to our hens' smorgasbord. And allow this thirty acres to grow green and cultivate an incredible amount of food for our locale from its very giving soil. We can't stop the destructive wars being waged or keep our libraries funded or provide people their basic needs, but we each have the option to live an individually giving and fulfilling life. And collectively, just like voices speaking up, or phone calls being made, or votes being cast, or love being given, or mouths being fed, or seeds being sown, and bridges being built between those with differences, there's great power to be harnessed.
I preserve hope for the future. And if I see the farm as a microcosm of it all...a place which was once depleted and now grows more prosperous and resilient by the year...couldn't an optimist like me extrapolate that the same is possible with our human world? And so, I'll keep my head on my shoulders and affect positive change as I can as one person in one little corner of this great, big world. Much grander than any one of us can fully comprehend, no matter the mapping and transmission of it.
Thank you for reading.
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