Fairview Gardens is an amazing farm. I’m still totally in love with the land, and watching it change over the last two turns of the earth has only help me to know how little I know that land. Everything about farming is about life and death, in equal proportions.
In a recent retreat at Casa de Maria there was a quote from a saint who in his last sermon was talking about how the wheat seed put in the ground must die to be reborn as a plant. In dying the seed really begins to live. Without death we can know no abundance. I marvel at how much I hold onto life and keeping things alive and forget the magic and power of dying. My uncle farmed the same land for 62 years. He knew more about death than anyone I know. It didn’t phase him at all. He wasn’t afraid of it, didn’t shirk from it, and in the end welcomed it with open arms.
He taught me that no one ever knows how to grow food. No one ever is an expert. At best we can hope to be someone who supplicant to nature and the earth’s rhythms. The art in this is learning how to do it well.
Spring is bowing to summer’s entrance and our fields fill up with food whispering at the coming corn feasts, apricot juice dripping down my arm and ripe tomatoes piled high in our farm stand.
Come join us on the farm and listen to the corn grow!