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.
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