A released lacewing rests on a kale plant before if’s off to hunt for aphids on both late summer plants and young plants that will feed our community through winter.
Dear Farm Friends,
Are you in on the secret? September can be the very best part of summer. It’s good in that bittersweet way, light still strong and golden, but evenings coming sooner. At this point, every cucumber you crunch, every cherry tomato that explodes in your mouth is both shadowed by and brightened by the knowledge that its time is limited, its season is not much longer now. And from there come the questions….have you savored it enough? Have you taken time to love the scent of basil, to feel the grilled zucchini melt on your tongue? Have you closed your eyes in amazement at as you bit into a sweet, sweet pepper? If you are not sure, the good news is there is still time.
We’ll be at the market Saturday morning on our usual corner, ready for one of those iconic farmers market days, sunny but cool enough to linger without wilting your bag of produce. Come mingle with your neighbors, and watch us try to squeeze it all into those market trailer shelves, and load up for a week of eating. We’ll be bringing so much….salad mix, head lettuces, bunch greens, red and green cabbage, tomatoes, melons (the wave has crested, we are safely out of the melon flood, but there is still sweetness to be had), carrots, beets, radishes, salad turnips, potatoes, leeks, tomatillos, zucchini, onions, garlic, eggplant, broccoli, cauliflower, hot peppers, tomatoes, herbs, and a signature star of late summer, piles of sweet peppers. It’s cooled off enough to make tomato soup and yet still warm enough to make a pile of raw veggies dunked in your favorite dip half of your dinner (it had been a while since we made ranch dressing, but with parsley and garlic and sweet onions, it’s time….and for broccoli and carrots and sweet pepper dipping it sure hit the spot). It’s tomatillo salsa time too, or just the season for sweet and hot pepper fajitas, grilled eggplant, baba ganoush….I’m sure there’s more that we have forgotten.
There are other bitter-sweets in the farm life too, and the quest for lives and selves in addition to the farm. We constantly weigh one thing against another. As Noah likes to say “everything comes out of something.” Last night, getting imperfect berries trimmed and into the freezer won out over hanging up the laundry and having clean socks today. That decision was clearly a good one; come December, we’ll have long forgotten the socks and we’ll relish the berries. We stole moments from planning time to release green lacewings—both to combat a typical rash of fall brassica aphids, and also to watch their iridescenct wings catch the evening light as they flew over the cabbages—to try to document a magic moment we’ve never caught on camera before. He did, and it’s pretty amazing, actually. Noah has been aching for a long time to bring back more of the creative life of image-making, of storytelling. The few moments for photography or filming come hard in the midst of busy farming season, but what he does with even the small crumbs of time always amaze me.
We’re still working it out, how to fit it in. How to embrace these competing moments between seasons. Excitement and terror at the size of one particular Hubbard squash at the edge of the field, thrill and exhaustion at starting the bulk root harvests (400 pounds of beets today was just a little warm-up). The thrill of watching the winter greens germinating, winter chard doubling in size over the week, the rush of market-crowd excitement and also, honestly wanting nothing more than a real, long, nap. Seasonality is to fundamental to small scale farming and yet the actual feel of it still fascinates me. I can love this bucket of zinnias I am harvesting, so much it almost aches….and at the very same time, feel very much fine that in a few short weeks they will be gone, that in a few months I’ll be tromping through snow and amazed by the vibrant green of chard in a tunnel. Maybe it’s trusting the rhythm of the seasonal return of these patterns that makes farming what it is, keeps us always a little in awe if we remember to watch for it even in the hardest, tired-set of times.
This is the time of year when people start to ask if we are winding down, or wrapping up. When members wonder if their feedbag membership is over soon, or if the last market is coming up. Memberships and market both run right on through the last week of October, so no, it’s far from over yet! And then there’s the winter farm! Come on out to find us tomorrow morning at market, or visit the farmstore anytime.
Your farmers,
Mary and Noah
Mary preserves farmer grade strawberries.