55. Exhale

The cadence of the market garden season is like a 200 meter dash. As I round the corner of summer and the scorching heats starts to wain, the finish line of Thanksgiving comes into view. Track coaches told me to keep my gaze forward; any extra head movement is fuel wasted. Your face should be so relaxed that your cheeks and lips jiggle with each pounding step. And when I break the proverbial tape at the third week in November, I can look around and reflect on how the growing season went.

Don’t sleep on the spinach this winter!

Yesterday I went fishing at my favorite local lake. The last three mornings I’ve slept past 7:00am. So it’s safe to say I am in the season of rest and reflection. And as I look back on the 2020 season, my third in the business of growing vegetables for markets and restaurants, I have a lot to smile about. Sales were up amid the uncertainty of global pandemic and economic upheaval, and I’m so appreciative to everyone who has helped to make that happen. Farmers markets went to drive-thru, restaurants closed, opened for takeout, some closed again. And all the while, folks kept buying local food. The response that these systems made in our corner of Virginia is something to be proud of.

In most years at this time many farmers are making decisions about which conferences and workshops they may attend. And that’s a process I’ve come to enjoy. The socializing and networking is nice for someone who spends much of my time farming alone. And I fear that the farmer who quits learning will see a dip in productivity shortly thereafter. But many conferences have been canceled this year; countless others will be held digitally and obviously that’s not the same.

But one perk of our land search with Agrarian Commons (read my last blog for the skinny on that; it’s arguably more important than my rambling reflections on 2020) has been the many opportunities to explore land and farms with their stewards as we try to find our next farm home. It’s been like my own special personalized farming conference one 2-hour onsite keynote at a time. I get all my questions answered and the conversation has been rich and insightful. The visioning process is rejuvenating even in places where we decide GVH is not a good fit.

The Vinton squash plot is tarped for the winter

As we turn the page into the season of planning, evaluation, spreadsheets and (maybe) vacations, my attention is focused both on the short term and long term future of Garden Variety Harvests. For 2021, we’ll be opening two more small plots on residential yards. And I plan to try my hand at a few new crops this year including cauliflower, summer and winter squash. I’ll bring a few new tools into the fold with an eye toward efficiency, and I plan to keep growing as many carrots, okra, and lettuce as we can possibly sell.

But when I look thru the long-term lens is when I really get excited. The prospect of putting down more permanent roots and working the same ground for decades gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. I picture friends and neighbors dropping by for a walk in the fields and taking home a bag of fresh veggies to cook for dinner. And wily groups of school kids romping around learning about worms, roots and soil with grimy hands.

If there’s a piece of land that you know could serve the purpose of bringing this vision to life, please don’t hesitate to reach out! Just like every step of the way thus far, the next chapter of this thriving little farm will take a village!

barring a deep freeze, collards are on the menu all winter!

Cameron Terry