My mama and Sterling planted these tulips for us last fall, and I’d never have imagined that she wouldn’t be able to come visit while they were in bloom.
They were planted at the same time as the tunnels providing us spring production now. There’s a special beauty in these crops that offer a lesson on thoughtfulness and patience. What felt innovative and abundant just a month ago suddenly feels limited in the wake of an increase desire for fresh, local, and safe food.
These lessons are requiring Nathan and I to sit down to discuss our options, reach out to our consumers and partners, contemplate and pray in such a way that we are good stewards of the food we grow. It's important that we ration both the crops and our energy so we can be in this farming thing for the long haul.
In these times, it’s hard not to harvest every plant down to the ground in a single picking knowing we could easily sell them all at a premium price. It’s difficult to resist getting more than our fill and storing up more than our share.
In order to resist the desire to work harder and longer hours we are balancing work with time at the creek or in the woods. We are picking tulips and delivering them to the door of those we love, but can't embrace, at least for now.
This is a portrait of Michelle Howell, a hardworking farmwife, mother of five, author, and advocate. On the left side of the bust you can read text from the poem “Anyway” that was on a wall of Mother Teresa’s home for children in Calcutta, India. “If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.” “The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.”
Leslie Nichols, Artist