Why I Farm

Here I sit on the base of the stairs winding their way up to my apartment. The sun breaks through the clouds bringing warmth on yet another beautiful spring day. The summer-like breeze rustles through the trees, caresses my face, and birds are singing everywhere. Yes, springtime is here.

I take off my socks and let my feet feel the elements – the sun, the wind, the song of the day. I’ve been volunteering at the Skinner Butte Community Garden for the last few hours. Something about working with the earth grounds me and I find I’m liking it more and more - playing in the dark, succulent soil, watching the critters crawl, slither, and fly, nibbling on greens as I go. I love coming back to a plot of land that I planted weeks or months ago, seeing everything all green and alive, and thinking, “Yeah, I did that,” (with some help from Mother Nature of course). And there’s nothing like eating food that you’ve grown yourself - reaping the bounty as I call it. It tastes like satisfaction.

My bounty today was some salad greens – spicy mustards and tasty arugula. And there was some purple leafed green which I don’t know the name of, but it tastes good. And finally there was a tiny, little cabbage about the size of an apple. And that’s exactly how I’m going to eat it - like an apple.

After spending the day working on a farm, I look at all those wonderful vegetables and just want to sink my teeth into them – eat ‘em raw. Just hands and teeth - no utensils, no pots, and no pans. Something about gardening seems to strip away all the bullshit, shows me what’s really important.

What I like most about farming is that it makes me feel good. Like I’m doing my part, like I’m doing something positive, something healthy. In today’s world, that’s a rare and beautiful thing.