Week 14 Newsletter

Week #14 - Week of August 31st

Hi CSA members. It’s week 14! Jacqueline from the farm crew here, and I would like to officially welcome you to September. Have you noticed the hints of fall starting to show themselves? I have been excitedly talking about my autumnal anticipation for weeks, practically giddy over the cold misty mornings. One of my favorite things about life in the PNW is the experience of the change of seasons. Working on the farm brings that rhythm even more to the forefront of my senses as we watch and participate in the natural life and death cycles of the natural world and the crops we cultivate and enjoy, and feel the relief of the work load beginning to lighten.  

Last Saturday we held our monthly Saturday volunteer day. Folks showed up eager to get their hands in the dirt despite the moisture in the forecast. At first, the weather seemed promising, and we worked together as a group to quickly pull up some of the flowers that had reached the end of their life-cycle to free up beds for fall crops. We moved from there out to the fields to finish up the cherry tomato harvest that the crew just didn't have time to complete during the busy work week. The group was hard at work, helping to carry our crew through the final week of August (slaw-gust?), when the rain started to come down. In no time at all we were soaked, but the satisfaction of seeing the plants around us being watered by a good rain for the first time in a long time was so satisfying that no one seemed to really mind. There was a tangible shift in the air as the rain came down after a very dry and laborious month. By the time we moved on to planting kale and chard in the newly cleared beds, the sun came out again -  warmed us up and dried our clothes. A truly satisfying progression.

For me, the shift into fall is like an exhale. It's the exhale after a hard day of work on the farm, or a hard worked farm season. The satisfaction of working in the dirt and with the plants, the relationships forged in our team, and the satisfaction of trying new things (like driving the tractor!) all in the energetic frenzy of summer time, settles into my body during this shift. 

As I anticipate the transition into a darker, slower, and more reflective season, I am feeling grateful for the love and connectedness I have felt on this farm. I imagine this fullness will fuel the art I hope to make and the growth that comes in the slow-down; just as the canned tomatoes from the height of our season will go into the soups that feed me and my loved ones through the cold months. 

I hope that whatever summer energy is buzzing in you now - whether it feels like joy, or struggle, or exhaustion - you find an exhale soon. Perhaps with hands in the dirt, or beholding a uniquely wonderful heirloom tomato, or letting yourself get soaked by the rain, knowing you will dry again soon.