Dear Farm Journal,
The wind was whipping with a steadfast devotion on our ridge top farm today, and we were contented to take cover in the greenhouses. Even still, I had to change the style of my ponytail to keep hair from thrashing my eyes. Rufus broad forked, I tilled, and he planted, working our way across the soil to create a new plantscape for the winter CSA. In the afternoon, I rolled up black plastic from vacant beds, wound up stray hoses, re spooled twine, gathered up staples and tomato clips, and folded up trellising mesh. All these gardening supplies landed in greenhouse three for the winter. I observe the end of season piles assembling and am filled with both a twinge of sadness that comes at the close of a charming chapter and a measure of swagger in the season’s attainments. We aren’t hanging up for the year just yet, but I feel we are turning one of the last corners of the growing season.