Winter on the urban farm

I shoveled. Yesterday and today, I shoveled. 

There hasn't been this much snow outside since I lived in that small town in the tip of urban Appalachia. I think I must have been about 9 years old. I liked being in the snow then. I played in the snow then. Today, I shoveled out of necessity.

It was quiet and there were birds chirping and the squirrels were making this clicking noise. I was thinking about the peace I could have out in the snowy quiet. But as I pulled out the snow blower, I mumbled a few curse words that my brother says no God-fearing person should say.

I thought about how the snow used to get shoveled with my ex husband who hated shoveling more than I did, but it is so much easier to move the snow now.  I thought about my father and how he wired up the house so the snow wouldn't sit on the roof of the house as I reached my shovel up to the garage roof and moved the snow that was hanging there.

I was thinking about being woman and embodying my dream of self-reliance on my own piece of property. It's okay to ask for help, but for this . . . Nah. That just wouldn't be hip.

I shoveled. I blew the snow in the alley into piles between the garages. I was thinking how cool it would be if everyone shoveled their part of the alley, so no one would get stuck in the snow as I have so many times before.

I didn't even bother to move the car today even though I  thought about it.  I thought about going out and then decided to wait.  I've been outside on the farm more in the last two days than I have most of the spring and summer. And I thought about what it might be like to start a seed or two or four in a greenhouse on the farm. I smiled to myself. . . That would be a hip urban farm thing to do.

Seeds are not meant to stay in the earth.

There's that bursting through the ground that seedlings do.  I find it so miraculous to see. It is similar to a child breaking the protective barriers of childhood. It is a time when the seedlings break through the earth to become plants.

No longer needing the cover of darkness and warmth inside Mother Earth, now they need the sun. The outside world has much to give the seedling, but they need the right conditions to make them strong and harden them off without killing them or giving them a fungus that will kill them.

The seeds sown in the earth grow from the warmth and darkness of the earth to become strong enough to create their own gifts and give them to the world. Mother earth does not cry with this separation or individuation. It is the cycle of life.

The lesson in this? Let go enough to let your seed become strong in who they are.  What you will realize is that as they give their gifts to the world they may return with seeds of their own. And the cycle will continue.

A seed is not meant to stay only in the earth. If it does, it will shrivel and die.

And that my friends, is not hip at all.