June 16th, 2020
What’s in your share?
Spinach
Head Lettuce
Endive
Kale
Napa Cabbage
Basil
Japanese Turnips or Pink Beauty Radishes
Bunching Onions
Of all the questions people ask about farming, one reoccurring curiosity is what we think about all day in the field. The inherent nature of farm work allows more than enough space for the mind to wander throughout the day. We often work independently, dividing and delegating tasks, each of us on our own mission. To be honest, I often find myself thinking about absolutely nothing, completely absorbed in whatever I’m doing, surrendering to the repetitive rhythm of the work. Farming becomes almost like a meditation, creating a heightened, deeper awareness. Other days, that time in the field inspires more, and my thoughts move quickly from one idea to the next.
Over the years, I find myself considering our relationship to the land, and our role as a species within that relationship. As farmers, we frequently feel conflicted within this relationship. Despite our efforts to make decisions with the least harmful impact, often it seems as though farming still requires the consumption of far away, nonrenewable resources, and, at the same time, produces unforgivable waste. Our soil, for instance, was severely depleted after years of monocropping corn and soy. The soil needs as much love as we can give it, including the addition of minerals and fertility that we cannot currently produce ourselves on the land. This involves making difficult choices surrounding responsibly sourcing these necessary inputs. The greenhouses too, while they enable us to extend our growing season, require a considerable amount of plastic that will ultimately be “thrown away.”
Each day we endeavor to cultivate the land with intention and forethought, with our choices not exclusively focused on what we need from the land, but on what the land needs from us, conscious of the wider, long-term impact of our choices. I sometimes wonder, is this a sustainable relationship? Can the human element be a positive force within that relationship, and potentially even, a necessary ally? Can growing food be a partnership with the earth, complete with reciprocity, responsibility and love?
Inspired by the book Braiding Sweetgrass, the author, Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “The exchange between plants and people has shaped the evolutionary history of both. Farms, orchards, and vineyards are stocked with species we have domesticated. Our appetite for their fruits leads us to till, prune, irrigate, fertilize and weed on their behalf. Perhaps they have domesticated us. Wild plants have changed to stand in well-behaved rows and wild humans have changed to settle alongside the fields and care for the plants—a kind of mutual taming. We are linked in a co-evolutionary circle. The sweeter the peach, the more frequently we disperse its seeds, nurture its young, and protect them from harm. Food, plants and people act as selective forces on each others evolution—the thriving of one in the best interest of the other. This, to me, sounds a bit like love.”
Community Supported Agriculture makes this relationship possible. On the most basic level, it provides the resources and support needed for the care-taking of the land and for creating a beneficial relationship with the earth. In this relationship, the earth may actually love us back, as shown in all that we harvested for you today.