Drunk on love

Jason and I don’t spend much time apart. It’s the nature of living and working together. While intimate knowledge of each other is an innate part of marriage, it’s a bit more, say, pronounced in ours. Not only do we know what makes each other tick, we know exactly...

An Everlasting Metaphor

We are still harvesting crops for markets. We are still deconstructing, cleaning up, and putting away the debris of this year’s season. We are still “putting the farm to bed”. We are still planning next year’s crops. But in the greenhouse, the next season has already...

Learning to Read

With darkness arriving at 5pm, it feels like the earth has slowed its spinning. My circadian rhythm has me, with nothing pressing to do in the dark, learning to read again. I don’t mean, of course, that I actually lost the skill of reading, I just lost the time to...

Returning Home

“You can’t go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory” wrote John Steinbeck in Travels with Charley. Now, I didn’t grow up in North Carolina from birth, but I did “grow up” so to speak in my farming career in central Piedmont...

The Poetry of Here

When you’ve been doing something a long time, even if you love it, even if you love it for all the right reasons, you can fall into a routine that might feel sometimes like a rut. You forget to pay attention to the delights, to the glimmers, to the reasons you...

Playing for the team of joy

The world is a conflicted place. The tiny insignificant speck of our lives juxtaposed against the infinite universe causes a great rolling of the eyes as we cry in the shower (or the walk-in—if you know, you know), over our silly little human problems. But narrow down...