In Closing

In the fall of the year, I am sometimes so struck by the wonder of it all that I just sit down in the field and let myself be filled with awe. Where else is the soil so sweet? Where else is the lining of the horizon at dusk so blue? Where else does Mars shine so brightly, or the Big Dipper come so close to the hills? Where else does the creek burble with quite the same grace, soft sounds floating up and over the fields?

As the leaves turn color, worries wash away like leaves on the water. What’s done is done, and the time left is so short, it cannot be stretched. We will complete the work at hand, winter will close in, and that will be the end of another season.

The farming year, like the school year, a marathon, or the World Series, exists as a discreet unit. Threads stretch out in each direction—spinach and garlic planted in the fall for next year’s harvest, planning and seed orders beginning before everything is put to bed for the winter—but each year’s season has its distinct boundaries, the point at which we say, “ah, 2007, that was a year to remember.”

In the fall of the year, we breathe deeply and feel grateful the little time we’ve been given on this Earth to live on and to work the land. It is an honor and a privilege to provide food for you and your family. Thank you.