Last Days on the Farm

Weeding

On Thursday I finally got a break from tomatoes (yay) and got to weed peanuts instead (boo). After teaching some other volunteers how to string tomatoes, I found myself armed with a hoe among rows of weed-choked peanut plants. I had never seen peanut plants before (some part of me thought peanuts grew on trees) and it took me a bit of wondering where the peanuts were before I realized that they grow underground. These plants won't yield ready-to-eat peanuts until the fall, but the plants have gotten pretty big, as have the weeds around them.

Weeding is probably the hardest thing to keep up with on the farm, although it is the easiest thing to have volunteers do: once you know what the crop looks like, you just pull out everything else. It is just hard to keep track of everything that needs weeding, since things like harvesting and watering and staking tomatoes are more pressing and time-consuming. But after everything that is ripe is harvested, and everything that is dry is watered, there is always weeding. Like most farm work, there is something satisfying about looking down a newly weed-free row of plants that you just hacked at for the last three hours, but it is also tedious. 

And buggy. I had a particularly close encounter with one of those cicada-killer bugs yesterday. The weeds were so tall that when I bent over to pull them, I basically got a face-full of plant. At one point while my head was submerged in the weeds, I heard this crazy buzzing right next to my head. I straightened up just in time to see a discombobulated cicada-killer (this huge, black and orange bee-like bug) dash out of it's cozy home in the weeds that I just ripped up. Needless to say, I sprinted down the row as the thing buzzed around in circles for a bit before giving up on it's old home and flying away in search of new weeds to nestle into, but it took a while before I felt comfortable reaching into the weeds again.

It's incredible to notice how many more bugs emerge as the summer goes on. When I first started volunteering on the farm in May, I was pleasantly surprised (and confused) by the lack of bugs. Around June came the adorable, carefree, white and yellow butterflies, and even a few monarchs, but nothing very creepy-crawly. I guess I got lolled into a false sense of security, because now there are bees, wasps, daddy long-legs, cicadas and their killers, spiders, and more that seem to pop out from under each leaf!

I also stopped by to check out the chickens - they've gotten so big considering they were just chicks when I first met them in June! They should start laying eggs in September and I'm sad not to be able to stick around to see it.

All-in-all, my second to last day on the farm was a hot, sunny day spent alone amidst peanut plants, humming and sweating - and inspiring a relaxing trip to the beach.

Rain

Of course today would not be a beautiful day to end on, but rather a rainy, dark, and stormy one. But at least it wasn't hot! I was back in the tomatoes, this time clipping little plastic rings to clamp the vines that escaped back onto the strings (I was going to take a picture, but of course it started pouring). It only seemed fitting to end with the tomatoes that I've spent so much time in this summer.

Saying goodbye to the farm today was strange. It had become such a routine part of my summer that the thought of not returning until possibly when I visit for fall break was strange. Not only had I become accustomed to the work and the food, but the people have been incredible. It was sad to say goodbye to the everyone, but it was wonderful getting to know them and learning from them. Thank you to everyone at Crossroads for such an incredible experience!

The culture of Crossroads is the exact environment I hope to replicate at the Villanova Community Garden: everyone sharing experiences, welcoming each other, working together, trying new things, and bonding over wholesome food. The volunteers and staff at Crossroads are of all ages and backgrounds, but together they work in the fields, meet for potluck dinners, and form a supportive and unique community.

Bringing the Farm Home

Today I finally got to buy a little crate of tomatoes to take home. These were the tomatoes I had helped transplant, and stake, and weed, and everything all summer - and they tasted amazing! When I got home from the farm, lunch consisted of raw corn on the cob (from another Long Island farm) and a couple of juicy organic tomatoes. Knowing they came from my own and other volunteers' and farmers' hard work made the tomatoes even sweeter. As I type this blog post, I smile as I notice some tomato resin still under my nails. My experience at Crossroads this summer will always stay with me. Like stubborn tomato resin, it reminds me to enjoy the wonders of nature and that when we harmonize with it and each other we can create something sustainable, healthy, and beautiful.

More Tomatoes

Yesterday was hot. From 9:30am - 12pm, three other volunteers and I strung tomatoes, and it was definitely a workout. The novelty of farming wore off sometime around 10:30 when the sun was beating down and the plants were being particularly uncooperative. But there is nothing more satisfying than seeing progress and the real benefit of your work at the end.

Before we strung the rows, the plants sprawled out all over as the weight of the tomatoes growing on them pulled them down. Once supported by a few lines of string, the plants stood upright and orderly, allowing the rotor tiller to go through the rows to remove the weeds that had sprung up around them, and ensuring the tomatoes weren't smothered on the ground as they grew. Below, you can see what a row looks like before it is strung (middle row) compared to rows that have been supported by string (far left and right).

I was reminded how much work goes into growing our food, and that we often take all that work for granted when we simply pull something off the shelf in the grocery store. Next time I eat a tomato, I'm going to be that much more grateful that the farmer who grew it put all that time and effort into it (or I will think about all of the machines needed to grow and harvest it, if it was grown on a conventional industrial farm). And it was interesting that I hastened to clean off all evidence of my hard work, as I profusely scrubbed the tomato resin off my hands before I rejoined the rest of the world and met some friends for lunch. Having your arms and legs covered in dirt and tomato resin is not a sign of accomplishment once you leave the farm - but in a sense it should be. Not that I think everyone should go around with dirt under their fingernails all the time, but I hope that people will be more accepting and interested in of the idea of working on a farm as we begin to realize how important knowing how to grow food locally truly is for the future.

A Day with Tomatoes, Bees, and Dirt

The Farm

Crossroads is caught between two busy roads, yet it somehow manages to create an island of natural beauty and calm, with abundant bees and butterflies, worms and birds (and needless to say, lots and lots of plants) that seem to defy the fact that it is stuck right in the heart of the suburbs. The farm staff have been so welcoming and informative as I learn alongside other volunteers the careful art of farming. My first day on the farm involved a surreal experience in which I pulled at this knee-tall leafy plant in the middle of what looked like an overgrown field to find carrots underneath! They had grown all winter and were ready to be harvested at the end of the spring before that section of field was turned over. It honestly was one of the most humbling and shocking experiences. It was sad to realize that it felt unnatural to me to pull a carrot out of the ground with roots sprouting from its sides than to pull a pre-cut baby carrot out of a plastic bag. It was that moment that I realized just how essential experiencing harvesting and growing food is. The supermarket does not grow food, the earth does. And if we can be reminded of that, we can better understand our connection to the earth and our dependence on it. The work that the farmers have done to make this small 5 acre farm an abundant source of organic produce is absolutely incredible. The looming electrical plant over the far plots of the farm serves as a glaring reminder of how we’ve changed this world, while the farm continues to show how we can still change it for the better.

Tomatoes

Tomatoes are hard work. They were first transplanted around late May, and then began the long process of staking and stringing them as the vines sprawled out like starfish and sunk to the ground. The tomatoes have shown me that you need muscle to be a farmer, which I am definitely lacking, as evidenced by the fact that I was only able to help hold the stakes upright as someone else did the actual work of driving them into the ground. I also got a blister after just two days of pulling the string taunt to hold up the tomatoes. The staking process is tough, especially in places where the dirt is more compact. We put a stake every three or four plants (the farmer is experimenting to see which works best) and then began the stringing. Stringing tomatoes is definitely a two-person job, especially when the tomato plants are massive and you can barely lift all of their branches off the ground. We tied the string to the stake at one end, and then weaved it between the tomatoes plants all the way down the row only to wrap around and do the whole thing in reverse on the way back, trapping the unruly plants between the two strings. Despite the backbreaking nature of this process, nothing is more satisfying than admiring weeks of hard work when all of the tomato rows have finally been staked and strung and the plants are all happily upright.

Bees

During my picture-taking spree, I was drawn to the sunflowers. They were almost as tall as me (which is not really saying much given that I’m not even five foot) and were so bright and cheery I couldn’t help but want to capture them on camera. Yet their delightful color and playful disposition hid the fact that they were teeming with wasps until I was completely immersed in them. I saw a wasp in the center of a flower and thought, “wow, what a great picture!” I stepped closer, only to realize there was not just one, but four wasps on that flower, as well as hundreds buzzing about the rest of the rows around me. Carefully I took a few shots and retreated to the relative safety of the tomato rows, but I couldn't help but smile at how much I’d changed. A few years ago, and you could not have paid me to walk into those rows. In fact, I had spent the whole day amidst the fuzzy bumble bees bumbling around in the tomatoes as we tried to string them, oblivious to our struggles, and they hadn’t bothered me a bit. I walked back to the farmhouse breathing a sigh of relief, it seemed the reality of the importance of summer bees and wasps was finally letting me see the beauty in them. I have high hopes that I will soon stop marking every time I see a bug with a shriek.

The Aftermath

Maybe my attempt to give back to the earth is wasted on the fact that my laundry has nearly doubled as I scramble to get out all of the massive grass and dirt stains from my work out in the fields, but there is something oddly satisfying about getting dirt all over you. Tomato plant resin is especially lovely, if you are looking for that nice, greenish scaly look. Especially in contrast with the office work I do for the rest of the week, the scorching sun and clingy dirt are a great relief from papercuts and computer screens. But dirt is not the only thing that comes home from the farm with me. They have a farmstand open Thursday – Sunday and it has been the highlight of my summer. With my mom’s eclectic cooking skills, I can practically bring home anything from kale to yellow zucchini and she will find something delicious to do with it. This weekend I’ve found that I’ve taken for granted just how talented she really is at making random vegetables into full meals. I attempted to make steamed beets and sautéed beet greens for myself Thursday night and failed miserably. While the steamed beets were delicious, the greens were overpowered by olive oil and garlic to the point where I found myself crying and gulping down water. Last night's success at sautéed eggplant in garlic and ginger has left me with the inspiration to finally start this blog. Eating food that I pulled out of the ground myself that morning is so much more satisfying than popping something into the microwave or ordering take-out. I feel more connected to my local environment and more secure knowing the farmers who sowed, grew, and harvested my food. While I only have a few more weeks on the farm, I hope to share this wonderful experience with you and and continue to learn more about how to grow and prepare food the way nature intended.