On Our Farms 6/4

One of the most satisfying things in life is to plant, to wait for rain, to hope it doesn't happen while we're selling the week's vegetables at market (and it doesn't), to come home exhausted after the planting marathon, the harvest marathon, and the market marathon, then to sleep . . .  and to wake in the darkness to the many notes of falling rain, every one in tune.  Then to sigh with half-sleeping happy gratitude for the gentle rain from heaven, soaking the earth and the thousands upon thousands of seeds and starts nestled in it.  Then to fall back asleep to the rain's song.

Henry's fallow field; end of March.

Same fallow field (different dog!); end of May.

We not only got a beautiful inch of rain Saturday evening, we got another again on Tuesday, and now Henry says, "the fields are looking real good." And you'll see that everything also looks "real good" at the market, with roughly 50,000 shades of green as you gaze around Henry's market stand.

But rain doesn't just cause vegetables to grow; it propels the cover crops in the fallow field, some of which are now armpit-high, and it prompts the weeds to speed away even faster than Usain Bolt, or so it seems! So next week everyone will be engaged in the weeding marathon.  Wish us well!