A few days of sunshine and warmth have been interspersed with the quickly approaching cold weather of winter. Luckily enough, volunteers and the work crew at the Food Farm worked together and got all our veggies in the root cellar for the 2013 season. To me, it is almost mind boggling how this happened, but after careful reflection I believe it was due to hard work, tactical strategic planning, and the dedication of steadfast, committed individuals that made this all come together to make something so bountiful and successful.
As we clear and prepare the farm for slumber, I find it a beautiful and chilly experience that leaves my hands numb from the frost and ice that is forming. This last week we were taking down trellis that once supported strong healthy vines and plants. As we pulled out stakes, cut twine, and wrapped trellises- my feet crunched through dried basil- a simple pleasure of the smell wafted through the greenhouse. As we finish for the season we are beginning to delve into the depths of thoughts of what we want for the seasons to come. I know my hands have thoroughly loved being covered with dirt and it had begun to seep into the cracks of my fingers from working, but I can tell with the change in work, the dirt is fading.
When I am out taking care of the turkeys I am coming face to face with the remembrance that their slaughter is near. There is nothing more intense than to see the animals you have raised and cared for being taken from their building and knowing shortly they will take their last breath. As sad of an experience as it is, I feel it is such a beautiful thing to be exposed to the raw and unfiltered experience of seeing where one’s food comes from. It is quite a powerful experience.
As the sun began to set at the farm today, I looked through bright (some almost barren) and icy fields that are holding on to the last remnants of fall with the sky turning to brilliant shades of pink and orange and it makes the whole experience feel so surreal. There are moments in my life where I am utterly blown away by my surroundings and it can almost leave me breathless. This was one of them.
How good it felt to pause with you and feel thankful, Jeanne. May your winter warm your heart and soul and bring you continued joy. Margaret
I just now read your Nov. 16 post…I’m so glad to know of your experience of the season, the satisfaction you express seeing the harvest safely stored, the affection for the turkeys about to become our food, the beauty that surrounds all. I loved the photos you shared too. This was such a difficult year for us; I am so grateful for your dedication, Jeanne, especially in the absence of much interaction with me or John. Thanks for sharing this lovely reflection. Jane