This brief perennial embrace between dogwood and redbud celebrates the glory of spring.
What an exquisite moment this is when both trees are blooming, to expire within a mere week, but bringing a sense of beauty, grace, and glory to all that follows.
This observation raises a question -- what is glory? We don't currently employ this word much, but it is defined as praise, honor, or distinction extended by common consent. Joel Salatin was recently in town for a food symposium (presented by Cincinnati Hills Christian Academy) and referred to this uncommon term. He offered that we need to glorify all that is beneath and around us before we can begin to attain the same for ourselves.
The regenerative food movement, of which you and we are essential parts, glorifies that beneath and around us, while the industrial food system denigrates the same for financial gain. The regenerative movement allows pigs to wallow, beeves to migrate, chickens to know fresh grass, and hens to roam. It honors the soil that is home to billions of life-giving microbes, it protects springs offering water, it takes lightly from forests, and it reveres the literal bedrock upon which all stands. It is also kind to fellow human beings.
Shakespeare, in As You Like It, so eloquently addresses this very ethic of respectful living:
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
This is what it means to glorify -- it is the ability to find conversation with all matter and to find good in every thing. This entails a process of listening and caring about every link in one's relevant chain, and then acting with respect to the whole. Glorifying others, animate and inanimate, is a loving act, and reflects a form of craftsmanship. When we extend this love to our landscape of connection, our own being is elevated. We become authentic to ourselves, and the great force of spirit can then rise up through our middle, miraculoulsy enabling us to go where we need to go and be who we need to be. This is strength and power, and though small by the count of each of us, it is mighty when aggregated with like spirits.
The industrial food system, by contrast, extracts, demeans, and overrides the symphony of messages emanating from the landscape. These messages are too complex for the industrial algorithm to consider, given the simple mandate for least-cost production. Least-cost production reduces the spirit of humans, animals, and inanimates, elminates individual expression, and disregards the whole. But it does deliver at least-cost, in the short run. In the long-run, the cost of its narcisistic disregard becomes staggering, due to empty and toxic calories being delivered to unsuspecting populations, who are clearly suffering from ever-rising costs of health care. There is no love in this equation and there is no glory.
We let the pig be the pig, and we deliver its entire spectrum of nutrients and its full spirit for your nurture. You are our critical partner in glorifying this animal and its innumerable companions.
Glory is love and love is health. There is no short cut.
This week we dug deep to work further on our all-important water-system, both draining 900 feet of water from a wet area and delivering water to two locations in a highly used field, via 1,000 feet of underground pipe. It seems we are always moving water, either away from a location or to a location, each for different purposes. In the picture below, a 2-inch brass saddle is attached to the current 2-inch water main. A 1-inch hose is attached to the saddle, and runs to the end of the field, providing 2 new watering points, 500 feet apart. While the investment for this is noteworthy, we believe it will pay off in terms of improved animal and human performance.
Last week we hosted a group of naturalists from the nearby Highland Nature Sanctuary. It was gratifying and inspiring to be with those who care so much about the ecosystem, similar to customers at HPFM. Our dependence on each other is total.
Easter dinner delivered aged lamb chops, fried eggs sauteed in beef broth, and rappini. The chops were cooked 2 minutes per side. So good.
We are temporarily out of fresh lamb chops, hoping to remedy that mild crisis within the next month.
Beth and Bob will be attending the market on Sunday, generously affording us the glory of a visit from young grandchildren.
May each of our footsteps ring with glory.
Drausin & Susan