Ah sweet spring we are glad for your coming!  Daffodils rejoice in the breeze and the new grass grows with exuberance, shining a fresh and vibrant green.  The landscape is alive and the farm begins to awaken from slumber. The gentle rains continue in a lovely alternation between sun and moisture.  It is good to have the wet days to help slow the pace; when spring goes full-bore without the rainy days, the farmer feels the stress of work to be done.  

    This year thus far we have been in a methodical approach, biting off reasonable chunks and moving along with the changing of the weather.  We are neither late, nore early, which means we must be in the right spot. The prep work continues during the sunny periods, and rainy days are occupied in the hoophouses and on admin and planning.  

    I am striving to balance the work on farm with my work off farm, seeking time management and acceptance.  There is always more to be done than can be accomplished in a given day and it is important to celebrate the smaller milestones.  Breaking farming up into manageable pieces is a necessary part of the process. It is important to take the time for oohs and ahs upon completion of a project.  

    Today I was struggling with motivation.  Too much caffeine lately, not enough downtime.  I haven’t been smoking much during the daytime, but I took a bonghit, and as I headed outside a few minutes later, I experienced a simple but powerful feeling of gratitude for the opportunity to be alive and to do physical labor.  It was a noticeable shift in my mental attitude, and I am glad for the herb bringing me into the present and making bright the light of the day.

    As I sat writing just now, I received news that a man whom I think of as a brother has passed.  I am reflecting on the fleeting nature of life. I open myself to the feeling of loss and accept it.  I feel the feels.

    Now, in this moment of reflection, I am grateful for the life I live.   My heart is glad to have spent the day working on the farm. I deconstructed a hoophouse that has been with us since the early days of our CSA.  So many trays of plants, so many crops from the long bed. It was a bittersweet journey of memory, the effort resonating in my muscles with the strength of the past.  That resonance is now compounded; I am feeling the impermanence of life and thinking about the inexorable nature of change, both that which we choose and that which is thrust upon us.  

    Life is a joyous gift, to which we do honor by recognizing and sharing in love and respect for those with whom we share the journey, and for the places we are blessed to experience. There is pain in the voyage, just as there is happiness.  Gratitude amplifies the joy, and acceptance makes bearable the pain. We walk the paths of our lives, and when those paths cross we share in the joy of the meeting. We exchange energy and move forward, forever touched by each other.

    I am glad for community, for the imprints upon me from so many.  I love, and I receive love. As it is given, so it returns as though from a deep and boundless wellspring.  Sometimes the path is smooth and sometimes it is rocky; we help each other to shoulder the burdens as we journey along.  We sojourn with love.