Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The farmer and the cabbage


I am a farmer. So I plant somethings a lot. But planting is only one piece of what farming is about. Here’s a little taste. Today I woke up ecstatic (and I mean ecstatic) about the rain that had come during the night after a hot, dry, rain-less week. And then I went out to set up the washing station where in a few hours we would be washing the morning’s CSA harvest. Loaded the pick-up truck (aka Gratitude) with harvest bins and knives and rubber bands and drove a half-mile to our 5-acre field. Met up with my farm apprentice and five Adamah fellows, young Jewish adults who have come to live here in intentional community and to learn about farming. One hundred bunches of scallions, one hundred bunches of cilantro, and one hundred purple and white kohlrabi harvested with our hands, covered in mud. Then back to wash and load our veg into the box truck (along with 90-lbs of sweet peas and stunningly squiggly garlic scapes harvested yesterday). Hopped in the truck and drove to Chubby Bunny Farm, our partner-in-CSA, where we combined our vegetables with theirs into bright yellow bins. And then off to New York, two-hours and ¼ tank of veggie grease later, we drop off our CSA bins and talk to some of our CSA members. So wonderful to know who you are feeding, and how the beauty you grow ends up being food! Drive back and the sun is slowly setting, rippling through the pines and maples, yellow and warm. Ended the day teaching a sustainable agriculture class to the fellows (putting the culture back into the agro). Already thinking about tomorrow- the rain, the beets and beans that need to be planted- doing a walk of the fields in my head and checking in with each bed of vegetables, confirming what each one needs.
I grow a lot of plants and I teach a lot of young folks about how to grow plants and how to sustain themselves and the environment while doing it. And I am tired a lot of the time, like bone tired, and I am also completely inspired to be farming.

That’s me on the left, in the yellow shirt, holding up a savoy cabbage. A wrinkly, beautiful thing. That you can eat.

No comments:

Post a Comment