On Our Farms - Giving Thanks

O N H E N R Y ' S F A R M — A O Z O R A ' S T H O U G H T S

All over the field, signs of the coming winter abound: kale stalks--headless after we chopped off their tops for one last harvesting--stand like vertical sticks. The rhubarb plants wilt into the straw that surrounds them, sinking into hibernation. Whole sections of the field are reduced to brown dirt after digging all the roots out, and in other sections the two-foot-high wheat cover crop waves in the wind.

Soon the field will slumber under a blanket of snow.

Amazingly, some crops--like the over-wintering spinach--will survive ice-cold winter months and produce new growth in the early spring. The garlic will nest and grow under mulch all winter and early spring, and grace us with spicy bulbs next summer. And in the greenhouses where the chickens now reside, the hens will provide excellent fertilizer for the coming tomato, pepper, eggplant and ginger plants, and for the spring beets, carrots, arugula and lettuce.

We are making the last of the preparations for our fields to rest and recuperate over these crucial frozen months. We hope that this winter will be cold enough so that most of the larvae of the potato bugs, tomato and cabbage worms cannot survive.

On Friday afternoon I made my way down the gravel hill and across the creek to the Bottomland to get a box of greens to freeze for the winter before they all wilted in the frost. All alone in that gorgeous field, I felt a wave of joy spread through my head and heart, all the way to the tips of my toes.

Thank you, I thought, speaking to this field that filled me with such delight during my childhood years. Thank you for gifting us all with the love of the earth: nutrition and energy and the happiness of a delicious meal. I took more than I received, and one day I will give my body back to you.

Soon enough, when the fields are covered in white snow, I will come down to say my goodnights. Sleep well, dear dirt, I will say. We shall meet again in spring.

Dirt always makes me happy!

O N H E N R Y ' S F A R M — O F F E R I N G T H A N K S, F O O D , P E A C E, L O V E

Henry and Hiroko on the Kumano Kodo pilgrimage route.

This is the time of year when we offer heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you, our Evanston Farmers Market friends, for standing by us through the ups and downs of yet another season. And this year we'd like to offer a special thanks for supporting Henry and Hiroko in their sabbatical year, and sticking with Henry's Farm through this Henry-less year.

But it wasn't a Henry-less year, of course, just a Henry-less Evanston Market. And while a crack team of experienced farmhands and family members were running Henry's Farm, Henry and Hiroko were taking the opportunity to rest, reflect, and renew in the rural community of Ogaito, in the mountainous interior of Japan between Nagoya and Kyoto. (BTW, the wonderful people of Ogaito asked me to tell you that you are very welcome and use the village as a convenient base for touring and hiking - contact us for details.)

Hiking up to the peaks on the first day of the Kumano Kodo pilgrimage.

Joel and I were able to spend a wonderful two weeks with Henry and Hiroko in early November, and I'll share just a few glimpses of that, and of Henry and Hiroko's life this past year, below. At some point, you'll be hearing from Henry himself more about his year, but I think I can fairly say that his "fallow year" provided what all serious retreats do (and why all spiritual traditions have consecrated time alone--in the desert, on a mountaintop, in a hermitage): calm, quiet time and space to follow one's own thoughts and feelings, and to emerge transformed.

So take a look at the photos below, and accept our warmest gratitude for allowing all of us at Henry's Farm to do what we do -- for 22 or 23 years now (I've lost track) -- grow wonderful vegetables in a way that's good for you and good for the earth.

And one more thing . . . in this troubled time when our wounded world is wracked by wars, floods, droughts, and acts of ignorance and hatred, your simple act of seeking out, preparing, and sharing great food grown in a way that is good for the earth has great power. First, in a very immediate and direct way, you are supporting a sane and sustainable way of growing food that mimics nature and combats climate change. Because Henry's Farm is extremely diverse, it is also resilient, able to provide food even in our increasingly unstable climate. But food can reach much farther. Imagine that instead of spending billions on deadly weapons, we use all that money to "invade" troubled nations with thousands and thousands of cargo planes and truck loads of food, medicine, clothing, cows, chickens, goats and other agricultural supplies -- basically overwhelm people with outrageous kindness and generosity so that everyone would have the ability to sit down to a good meal with family and friends. It is hard to have murderous feelings while enjoying food and conversation around a table, and the security that comes from good meals with family and friends will turn the tide turns toward humanity and peace.

Henry and Hiroko's class of adult students (they also taught children).

I know it sounds hippy-dippy, but we can start that process at home, by enjoying good food grown in a good way, and sharing it with as many people as we can, in peace and love.

So thanks again for a wonderful year, have a beautiful holiday season, and enjoy the photos below from the tail end of Henry and Hiroko's sabbatical year.