Here for the long term
Recently, on Facebook and Instagram, I talked about some of the questions people ask when they visit the farm. The big one is the one I get from well-meaning people who have watched houses built on every side of our land.
“How long do you think you’ve got?” they ask, gesturing at the construction and at the highway whizzing past. “How long are you planning to be here?”
The question treats time on the farm like it’s linear, like we get from one place to the next. It’s not. The farm doesn’t take us from one time to another time; it takes us in looping circles, right back to where we started. Time is cyclical here.
When we pull weeds at the edges of the fields, careful not to let their seeds fall back into the field, it’s a promise to be here next year. When we breed the animals, it’s a promise to see them through and watch them care for their young. When I change the oil in my tractor, it means I’m going to be here next year. When we build new hoop houses, or add on to the market, or put up signs along the road to invite you in, we’re making promise after promise: to stay, and stay some more.
Don’t look at the development. Don’t look at the highway. Look at the farm. See our promise: to stay the center of our community, to provide something real. We’re here. We’ll be here. Come join us.
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