seasonal rhythm

A random casual conversation tripped me up the other day.  “So, what are you guys up to these days?” like it was a mystery.  Uh, working?  I think I said.  “So, where’s your husband today?”  Working!?

Working at his full time farm job, which he commutes to by bicycle, adding hours to his day, while I meet the needs of at least four species (and that’s just the ones with eyes) plus us at our home farm and work at a third farm part-time, and try to keep up with preserving the deluge of food that rolls in at this time of year, because it’s harvest time!  Because it’s the busiest freaking time of year!  What do you think I’m doing these days!?  Playing solitaire?  My brain was sort of screaming but my mouth happily short-circuited and I had to run anyways because I was between three different things I had to do very quickly.

I realized, though, that if one is trapped in a 9-5 life and not outside most of the day, viscerally connected to the seasons, the shortening days, the building urgency, then one wouldn’t be in touch with what this time of year means.

It’s beautiful to be connected to the seasons.  There’s been times I wasn’t.   I’m grateful for it now, even if I am run off my feet and harvest has just begun.

 

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