And we had rain! Just a little. But there’s a promise of more. And the farmer’s spirit, well, my spirit thrives on hope. Especially when by 10 AM the air is almost too thick to breathe and the days are filled with the kind of heat that’s red and sweaty and furious. For weeks now, the sun has been beating against the backs of our necks as we pull onions from the soil, dig through the potato patch, and harvest carrots, our bodies endlessly scrunched forward in search of shade. By late afternoon, squash leaves wilt against dry soil and rows of Mottistone lettuce, a variety known for being heat resistant, have bolted even before their leaves had a chance to fill in. Tenderness doesn’t survive this kind of heat.
Or maybe it does.
Just weeks ago I wrote to savor these summer days. And I meant it. Maybe it’s because I’m a farmer, or maybe it’s true for everyone, but for me, the summer days fly by especially quickly. The gentle hum of cicadas and the fireflies’ summertime glow. Bouquets of zinnias and bundles of drying chamomile. Gathering around the fire pit to eat vanilla ice cream topped with berries. Sitting on the front porch swing with a glass of wine and a much needed thunderstorm. Delicious beet burgers. The greens still hanging on (kale can be pretty awesome like that) and that first grilled summer squash. Then the tomatoes and pepper and eggplant. And the bountiful harvests of garlic and onions and potatoes.
So, once again, savor these summer days (maybe even the heat, just a little) and gather with friends to share in the generosity and beauty of this season’s harvest.
P.S. And don’t forget to join us on August 13th for our potluck!