In a garden the change of seasons penetrates deep into the bones. Those of us that work the land spend most of our days out in the elements. Our bodies are like tuning forks tracking the heat, humidity, rain clouds, winds, the first frosts of autumn and the winter chill. When the snow quietly blankets the land we know intimately that the tracks imprinted on the pure white landscape will soon melt into spring and hasten the seed to its ultimate fruition.
A year in the garden is a year of constant change. The microcosm of the natural world is unpredictable. But we can always rely on the greater cycles of the seasons. We know that the sun will beat its path across an arc that is predictable. Though, what the weather will bring, we can only guess. We can attempt to read the signs, we can lay out our plans, and we can proceed with our work, but we must keep all of our senses open, our minds clear. We must stay present to the changes in air pressure, the shapes of the clouds, the levels of humidity, the movement of water and wind. To become efficient cultivators of the soil and caretakers of plants requires single-mindedness, focus and patience. We are part and parcel of the natural ebb and flow. What may appear chaotic in the natural world has an underlying logic all its own.
In the greater context, this year is no more significant than any other year. It is simply that we, those that work the land, become more aware of the intimate metamorphosis through time and the more intimate metamorphosis of the way all life is in constant communication. Through observation we come to see the subtleties of the land and what we need to do in order to raise yields and the overall abundance that the land can provide. Abundance is not simply about raising crop yields. It is about reaping the infinite resources of our hearts, minds and bodies in sustainable and harmonious ways. It is about enjoying the fruits of our work with the larger community and aligning ourselves with an ethical basis for all we do. The land is a unity, everything working with everything else. There is no waste in the natural order of things. The economy of nature is such that life and death will always continue. Everything is food and sustenance for everything else, and we, as caretakers of the land, must consciously see to it that this ongoing process of death and renewal is not interfered with. We cannot “grow” anything. We can only nurse what is already there by consistently balancing all the elements and providing the platform for the Grace of Life to work its magic.