embracing death

Following the last of the winter thaw, Wisconsin's spring of 2018 ignited with a bang.  In just shy of a week, brown was overtaken by electric shades of green in all directions.  Quiet was drowned out by a chorus of crickets, frogs, and wind that carried the scent of all things growing wildly.  The gentle pitter patter or thunderous downpour was a sure indication that mowing would soon be a priority on the exponentially growing list of chores.  Just one cycle of the seasons ago, spring meant a walk to the neighborhood coffee shop or farmer’s market without a burdensome winter coat.  Now coffee is conveniently and solely brewed 10 steps from bed and the market produce is 10 yards from the kitchen door.  I’d like to say these conveniences mean life is slower and simpler now...but it’s not really.  In fact, rural farm life is busier and more complicated in many ways...even on our humble plot of land.  It’s demands are relentless so long as the sun keeps shining and the rain keeps falling...and harvest is nothing to joke about.  As swiftly as spring arose, autumn descended along with the beckoning call to pick, dry, boil and can to ensure that not an ounce of the summer’s energies were wasted.  Farming on any scale is not for the faint of heart or hand.  This is where slow comes in.  Each day requires a mindful walk about the land to hear which elements are speaking the loudest.  Rushing risks missing the call to be pruned so that more vital sunlight can find its way to vulnerable fruits struggling to hang on...or the call of the cabbage leaves being silently invaded by stealthy slugs.  Simple comes in next. Routines need to be paired down.  When too many steps are involved the most vital one risks being overlooked and imminent death might be the consequence of such forgetfulness.  When too many activities are added to the schedule, essential rejuvenation time is missed out on which creates a painful domino effect and life becomes infinitely more difficult for the human residents of this shared land.  As the vital life force withdraws deeper into Mother Earth, we breathe a sigh of relief.  The push is coming to an end for a season and the return of brown and decay means our bodies can rest and the creative life force can be harnessed anew.  For me, this is evidenced by words emerging more freely and abundantly.  For Tim it means breads, pizzas and pastries are making their way into and out of the oven once again...and our home smells divine.  For our girls it means a deeper dive into academics and extracurricular pursuits that align with their heart’s budding interests.  In what ways do you embrace the gift of death that autumn and winter bring?  I dread the thought of disrupting our seasonal cycles in such a way that we one day find ourselves reminiscing about this gift of death with nostalgia.  ​

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