I decided last January, in the depths of a Wyoming winter, that I wanted to spend the next growing season on a farm. It’s possible it was the cold and snowy weather, lack of fresh produce and general cabin fever that drove me to this decision. However, as the ramblings of this blog suggest, I think it was something more than that.
I chose to begin my hunt for my future farm in Vermont – a state with an already lively local and sustainable farm and food movement. Vermont also has a growing season and climate similar to the one I grew up in and will likely find myself growing in again someday – the American mountain west. While most twenty-somethings ventured westward for excitement, adventure and exploration, I found my way to New England – a place I was and still am convinced can teach me a great deal about establishing strong roots, creating long-lasting community bonds and a self-sustaining economy.
In my search for a place that might provide me with these skills and experiences, I found Paul and Sally and Foggy Meadow Farm. After a couple phone conversations with Paul, I told him I’d be on the farm and ready to work come early spring. Since May 1st I’ve been out in the fields and at market, learning what I can about growing fertile soil, delicious veggies, a successful business and a thriving community centered around healthy foods and farms.
Me, the red truck and the farm in late spring.
And I keep track – as best as I can with a fifty-five hour work week – of the goings on, challenges, conversations and new experiences along the way. As I write and photograph, I keep in mind an observation Michael Pollan made during a reading done at Yale University called On The Plate and In The Garden: Nature Writing After Wilderness. He said of any novel experience:
What you get, when you do something for the first time, that even the experts don’t get anymore, and I’ve found this over and over again…You get the great gift of wonder. The wonder that comes with doing something for the first time, first sight, seeing it in a way that the much more experienced, much more expert observers can’t see anymore.
While I can’t pretend to mimic Pollan’s style or scope, the perspective of the novice is what I hope to offer here. I am certainly no expert, nor do I intend to be one come first frost. What I can offer, however, is an account from the eyes of an amateurish, hopeful and, at times, naïve learner. While the tasks I learn here might begin to feel monotonous, I feel rejuvenated when I remember that before these patterns were established there was wonder and excitement. I think it is at this moment that farming is most interesting and inspiring.
So, here is where I’ll record and share those moments of wonder, along with images and stories I’ve captured of the farm, the harvests, the market, the land, and the people. I’ll likely also include ramblings, some recipes, farming secrets and maybe, if we’re lucky, a little inspiration along the way.
turnips and taters 