There is a lot of literal heavy lifting at the farm this time of year. We’ve a season’s worth of storage crops to get into the walk-in. While the work of the farm year is far from over, with the pressures of growing food mostly behind us, I do find myself more contemplative with the change of season. I’ve been thinking about how to both live in my most conscious mind, as well as make space to let go of thought and simply be in the body. Luckily, farming provides an opportunity for both. But even in the bucolic world of small scale organic agriculture, distractions are many. I live in my continual hope to both settle in deeper in myself, and learn to more frequently voice my words to the outer community.
I acknowledge that I’ve been quieter in this public space for the past year. As many of you know, I moved my farm business to Bowdoinham last winter. The past nine months have been a thorough hustle of rebuilding greenhouses and other farm infrastructure, as well as growing at a market pace on ground that to my understanding had not been farmed since 1940. My goal was to keep the farmers’ market stand looking as “normal” as possible despite a huge transition.
With farming and food being about place, it is difficult to separate my personal life from my business life in the public eye, and my response to this has mostly been to be quiet. I’ve done my best to be as present as possible through providing you with healthy food, while also honoring my transition. As I type these words, it is no surprise to me to recognize that it is after a nine month window of growing, that my voice is coming back out. I’m farming on age old land in the true human cycle of time.
Dandelion Spring is now rooted in Bowdoinham on 85 acres of land, with beautiful ridges, soil of statewide agricultural importance, and about half open space and half woods to get to know. I purchased this property and simultaneously sold an easement to Maine Farmland Trust, to forever protect this farm space. I feel incredibly gifted to be able to call this land home. There is a huge black walnut tree that anchors the dooryard, and most of our crops are in an open field in back with a light wooded boundaries. The energy of the land is simply amazing. For those of you who’ve known me through many farm moves, I’m grateful for all of the steps that brought me here.
The here and now – this morning was our first hard frost of the season. The crops are even sweeter, and the push to get them side is heightened by the true coming of winter. On the personal level, I’ve books by Adrienne Rich on one side, and Norweigan Wood by Lars Mytting on the other. Growing, learning, translating that into healthy food and a sustainable farm community is my main game. I’m appreciative of all of the ways you join me.