Last week we began our harvest at Farmageddon. Restoration Boy was in orbit. Even RG had a little “moment”. As we watched the combine devouring the barley that we (actually our lovely neighbour!) had sown all those months ago, some new thoughts settled with the dust. Perhaps it was the balm of a harvest sunset or perhaps I’d just taken too many Clarityn :-). But for the first time, I was beginning to truly love this place.
Farmageddon’s grains have been sold this year for whisky, beer and biscuits. Result.
Harvest felt like a natural cause to celebrate. We partied like Pagans. In an Airstream. At the top of a muddy field. The only thing we were missing were some standing stones and a ritual sacrifice (not strictly true – the bbq sausages got pretty toasted).
We watched the Yorkshire sun set and went for midnight walks by the river. We lit fires and camped out under the sky. We went on an ancient tree quest. We started to get closer to the soil, to discover Farmageddon’s nooks and crannies; the farm was slowly unfurling itself to us. I feel like a sense of trust is developing between us and the farm; as she sees that we seek to take care of her, and love her, so she reveals more of her wild beauty to us. The more we sow and reap from this place, the more gratitude we feel towards it. So this adventure has brought us city dwellers some insights into humanity’s deep attachment to the land, and in doing so, perhaps I understand a little more about how human beings develop such an indelible feeling of home.
Until next time, Kat xxx