Grace...harvesting that which I did not sow

The longer I farm, the more I learn that farming has much more to offer us than good food. There are so many lessons to be found in the earth. It's comes with challenges and opportunities. Many rewards and pains. Thorns and roses. Slugs and Dahlias.

 My first dahlia bloom this season. Isn't she lovely!

My first dahlia bloom this season. Isn't she lovely!

The funny thing about this season so far is that despite our hard work and best efforts, our harvest with many enterprises has been less than desired. But something happened in the midst of this feeling of scarcity. I opened my eyes and looked around me.  The things that we planned and sowed have not done as planned. The seeds that we did not sow, the ones that self sowed from the previous year, the wild things, are abounding. Just look at the zinnias in my garden. I didn't plant a single seed.

 Zinnias, zinnias, zinnias!!!

Zinnias, zinnias, zinnias!!!

Sometimes despite our best efforts things fail. We fail. Do we forgive ourselves when that happens?  Do we allow others the oppotunty to fail?  Do we extend grace?

 Today I'm looking around, and everywhere I look I see the grace of God. In a flower I didn't plant. A seed I didn't sow. Blackberries wild in the woods. Queen Anne's lace on the roadside. Invasive herbs that turn out to be the best filler in a bouquet.  And I'm so thankful. 

And of course this grace transcends so much more than flowers and dirt. It goes straight to our soul.  

What's in a name? Woodsong...

It's a tricky thing, coming up with a name for a farm, or any name  that you think might be around for a while. How did we choose Woodsong?

We live in a place surrounded by dark, dense forest. The forest has not been cared for. It was probably clear cut 10 years ago, and now it is populated by thick scrubby trees and no under story to speak of. Deer love it here, and coincidentally so do ticks.

It's not the loveliest wood to behold. It's wild, dark, and full of nasties, such as the aforementioned ticks. Sometimes the world feels like that to me. Dark, wild, full of nasties....

And then, if I wake up early enough and listen sometime in early Spring, I hear it. Amidst the wild. Piercing the darkness. Rising with the dawn, a song.

Despite the crazy world we live in, there is beauty here that would pierce your heart and break it, if you would but listen. Can you hear it?

It's the woodsong.

There is beauty and joy and goodness to be found. There are praises to be sung, first thing as the sun rises, and again as the sun sets, just like the wood thrush.

And for our farm,

May it be like the wood thrush. A song in the chaos, a light in the darkness, doing right when it's a whole lot easier to just do what's easy or what pays. To remember that there is so much goodness and beauty and joy to be found. To have thankful hearts. May we be a farm that produces this goodness and shares it with others.

May our bounty nourish your bodies. And may your hearts be blessed by the joy found in the wood thrush's song.