Slow Winter Work

I’m writing this message in a sea of green, while weeding one of the only crops that I successfully planted this fall (Baba garlic from Sasha at Saena Seed Project). Much of the work of last year has been long digested in our bellies, and one of the only ways that it carries over is in the seeds. At home, I’ve slowly removed seeds from their mother plants and prepared packages to distribute to all of you.

I’ve also sown the seeds in my little greenhouse and done a disastrous job of taking care of them, between bouts of grief and sickness. Meanwhile, because the mother plants dropped their seeds on the farm this summer, the same plants that have been struggling under my care in little plastic cells have come up as a dense and vibrant carpet on the floor of the farm. It’s felt so silly to watch these plants effortlessly grow as I wrestle with the crop plan I wrote in September. While I’ve been juggling and complaining and fiddling and cursing about winter growing and all of the setbacks and how badly the plants and I want to rest, the earth and her beings have continued their slow winter work. The farm is full of food, without, or even despite my efforts.

Whenever I brace myself and prepare to wear the Farmer Hat and carry out the narrative of Working Hard and Struggling, the farm reminds me of how insignificant I am and how little it needs me to feed people. I’m just carrying these plants over to you. Especially now that the seed and the land have been introduced to one another, they will likely forever be intertwined.

I’m waiting and watching the sabzi grow at a snail’s pace in the winter sun, thinking about how to get them to you.

Ok, that's all for now! Thank you for reading, hope to see you soon! 

Love, 

Farmer Sama :) 

This entry was originally submitted on 3/7/24.