“This high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we’re ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can’t accept
a bounty we can’t forgive
Night frost will strike when the noons are warm
the pumpkins wildly glowing the green tomatoes
straining huge on the vines
queen anne and blackeyed susan will straggle rust
as the milkweed stakes her claim
she who will stand at last dark sticks barely rising
up through the snow her testament of continuation
We’ll dream of a longer summer
but this is the one we have:
I lay my sunburnt hand
on your table: this is the time we have”

–Adrienne Rich, from Contradictions: Tracking Poems.

If you've been a Farm Girl Farm customer for awhile, you've probably received this poem from me before. I'm a little obsessed with it at this time of the year, every year. I guess my favorite part is...the whole thing. But the line about crashing into autumn with a violence we can't accept has spoken to me on so many levels since the first time I read it, literally and metaphorically. Never more than in these times, as we head into another winter of uncertainty and potential semi-isolation.

Not just that, but...I don't like it when I have to go indoors and do my winter work (stomping foot). I don't like it when I start to feel separated from the land--despite hiking and playing in the snow--nothing brings me the same connection as having my hands in the ground. I don't like it when I have to start getting veggies from the grocery store again. And I don't like it when that incredible sense of purpose given to us by Mother Nature becomes more elusive. In the growing season, no matter how bad the headlines are, one thing we know for sure is that we have to go outside and plant, water, tend, harvest. In the off season, of course there is long, long, very long to do list but it doesn't bring the same satisfaction.

So, I do what I can to put off the inevitable. I keep planting at the end of summer. To have a reason to reach into the garden and get dirt on my hands. To have something coming from our back yard that I can send Addie to school with. To have something green to put on the Thanksgiving table. And to be held by that sense of purpose until I'm ready to accept that once again, it really is time for winter.
 
THIS WEEKEND, everything--all the plants--are HALF PRICE. Everything.
Stop by and plant yourself a summer extension. :) 
 

“This high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we’re ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can’t accept
a bounty we can’t forgive
Night frost will strike when the noons are warm
the pumpkins wildly glowing the green tomatoes
straining huge on the vines
queen anne and blackeyed susan will straggle rust
as the milkweed stakes her claim
she who will stand at last dark sticks barely rising
up through the snow her testament of continuation
We’ll dream of a longer summer
but this is the one we have:
I lay my sunburnt hand
on your table: this is the time we have”

–Adrienne Rich, from Contradictions: Tracking Poems.

If you've been a Farm Girl Farm customer for awhile, you've probably received this poem from me before. I'm a little obsessed with it at this time of the year, every year. I guess my favorite part is...the whole thing. But the line about crashing into autumn with a violence we can't accept has spoken to me on so many levels since the first time I read it, literally and metaphorically. Never more than in these times, as we head into another winter of uncertainty and potential semi-isolation.

Not just that, but...I don't like it when I have to go indoors and do my winter work (stomping foot). I don't like it when I start to feel separated from the land--despite hiking and playing in the snow--nothing brings me the same connection as having my hands in the ground. I don't like it when I have to start getting veggies from the grocery store again. And I don't like it when that incredible sense of purpose given to us by Mother Nature becomes more elusive. In the growing season, no matter how bad the headlines are, one thing we know for sure is that we have to go outside and plant, water, tend, harvest. In the off season, of course there is long, long, very long to do list but it doesn't bring the same satisfaction.

So, I do what I can to put off the inevitable. I keep planting at the end of summer. To have a reason to reach into the garden and get dirt on my hands. To have something coming from our back yard that I can send Addie to school with. To have something green to put on the Thanksgiving table. And to be held by that sense of purpose until I'm ready to accept that once again, it really is time for winter.
 
THIS WEEKEND, everything--all the plants--are HALF PRICE. Everything.
Stop by and plant yourself a summer extension. :)