FALL SPIRITS

written by

Drausin Wulsin

posted on

October 12, 2017

FALL SPIRITS

_DSC0608+(1).jpg


Though a hot September is making for muted colors in October, fall spirits are still in the air.

We are celebrating the turning of the season with a farm tour this Saturday, consisting primarily of members of the Indian community in Cincinnati. We didn't know any Indians before we started raising and selling grassfed meats. But now we do, and have fallen in love with them. That is yet another testimony to the power of nutritious food to create connections and build bridges. The spirit of food and the spirit of fall will be commingling this Saturday, to which we look forward.

_DSC0607.jpg

Willa Cather is famous for writing novels and short stories about life on the prairies of Nebraska. The following passage, delivered by Jim Burden in My Antonia, touches on our world in Pike County, Ohio, even though so far away.

I wanted to walk straight on through the red grass and over the edge of the world, which could not be far away. The light air about me told that the world ended here: only the ground and sun and sky were left, and if one went a little farther there would be only sun and sky, and one would float off into them, like the tawny hawks which sailed over our heads making slow shadows on the grass... I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness, to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.

The above picture is of "red grass"- switch grass, big bluestem, Indian grass. We feel as if we are part of "something entire" and realize many moments of feeling dissolved into "something great". Those are coupled, in our journey, with moments of worry and confusion, against a backdrop of fatigue, due to relentless inspiration. Willa Cather's passage was recently pointed out to me, and it resonates.

_DSC0611.jpg

We are in the last two weeks of calving, and so far so good, thanks to the observant eyes and hands of Kathy and Cole. Fourteen cows out of sixty are still due to calve over the next two weeks.

_DSC0600+(1).jpg

Our herb garden supplies almost all needs for our prepared foods. Those herbs include: oregano, rosemary, thyme, sage, parsley, basil, Thai basil, marjoram, chives, and sorrel. The only herb we have to buy is cilantro, at this point. It "bolts" and expires too quickly for our fragmented attention span.

_DSC0605+(1).jpg

Rack of lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and ratatouille form the basis for a simple, delicious, and elegant meal.

We look forward to seeing voyageurs this Saturday at the farm and the rest of you at either Findlay Market on Saturday or Hyde Park on Sunday. These are the final two weeks of the outdoor market at Hyde Park, so if you are hungry for grilled sliders, we are still operating our "slider shack". We then go indoors to Clark Montessori for the winter.

May this fall lift your spirits toward something entire.




012617b.jpg

More from the blog

Sacred Place

It is a privilege to know a sacred place, as I feel I do. In some ways, it seems sacred places are supposed to be scarce and remote, like Stonehenge, Chartres Cathedral, the Taj Mahal, or abandoned Pueblo dwellings. Large landscapes, like the desert, ocean, or mountain ranges feel imbued with the divine. Alaska, the Amazon, and the Serengeti invite a sense of awe. One travels to such places, in pilgrimage. And sometimes such places reorganize the pilgrim's sense of order, inviting disorder or change, that can be both painful and uplifting.

Big Muddy

Here is the Lower Mississippi River, 45 feet below normal pool. Over Thanksgiving, Susan and I shoehorned ourselves onto a cruise ship to learn about the lower Mississippi and its bayou. We started in Memphis and ended up in New Orleans, with stops along the way to explore river towns. This river is the third longest on the planet, providing drainage to 40% of North America. It has historically deposited silt yearly in its floodplains, producing topsoil 120 feet deep, making these soils some of the richest in the world. Vast wetland forests grew beside its banks, of cypress, oaks, and sycamores, populated by a rich array of black bears, deer, bobcats, alligators, and aquatic life. This was the legendary bayou.

Streams & Souls

Streams and souls seem to share character. They are life-giving, they are coveted, they can be impeded, they can be channelized, they can be overwhelmed, they flood, they dry up, they flow downhill, they are a force of both change and constancy, they lie at the center of a community, they will not be denied, and because of this great complexity, they attract periodic resistance. So, it seems that streams may serve as a metaphor for the journey of the soul.