December at the Ag Park

Back out at the farm after almost a month. Cover crop coming up. Little green blanket across the ground. Skeletons of Bermuda grass hanging on the edges of the fields. And new growth unrelenting. Green nets of Bermuda. 
Bucket like, spoon like valley- Sunol Ag Park- shades of green. Between 4 and 8 inches already. The grey blue sky, cool and wet. Awaiting a storm, they say will bring 80 mile an hour winds in parts. How to ready for a storm? Schools closed. Will the streets and waterways flood? Drought drenched California. Drought starved California readying for a storm. Unbalanced root systems and soils. Cement laid freeways and roads. No where for water to go except spilling on the sides and centers. Hanging around making pools. 
Rain. What will you bring.
The soil's wet in Sunol. Dark brown. Green, grey, light spilled tree tops. December!

Feels so good to walk around the farm. Unknowing. What shall it bring. Just walking. My boots caked in mud. The turkeys by the fence see me coming and fly, first a few and then all at once. Up and out. Helena planting ranunculus. Kristyn raking the weeds to get cover crop in. Early in the morning back to seed, she says, before the rain comes. Shawn cleaning up irrigation, saying goodbye to his farm for now. Selling hoes, and rakes, and shipping containers. Letting myself enjoy this place. The mountain blue bird with the blue purple like feathers. The owl that dips above my head just as I am heading out the gate. I look up in time to see its wingspan like a giant hanging in the air. And dip out onto a persimmon branch. 
And there, the Water Temple, with wooden art at the top. Below, like a swimming pool, tiled bottom, yellow and blue, a slow flow of water. And a sign, “ no throwing things”

Large pine tree’s and parking areas. Behind the hills, the green. So quickly you came. Green shadows. Good to be out at this land. What will come. And will it feel like a home. The way farming has for me up until now. This commute from Oakland to Sunol. For a 1 acre plot of land. Where summer temperatures regularly reach 100. And where as of now I have no shade structure, greenhouse, or storage. Just an acre plot where I hope to have a market farm. Letting the anxiety of it all ease off my back for a moment as I let myself walk and enjoy this place. The cool light, wet soil, small plants and green! 
May I come to know this place, these people, this soil, make a home of it. Grow some crops, and see if I can make a living at this and take care- of myself and others. My relationships!! That’s what this life is made of. The stuff of life. Relationship.
With soil, people, plants, air, water, bugs, dirt, music…. Thoughts.. emptiness. 
Back home, with bok choi Shawn let me harvest from his 200 foot rows that he has no plans for. Pasta and canned tomatoes. Bok Choi, red wine, and watching a you tube video of a Russian couple doing a remake of Keisza’s song, hideaway.
Other thoughts

  • how to let my work inform my life.
  • How to work and let my life inform my work
  • How to walk in the protests. And find meaning in my work. How does growing flowers relate to social justice work.
  • How will growing fulfill some of my needs for intimacy… and awareness of city living and the things that need attention.
  • How to put my whole self into my work. And my whole self into my life. And still have time and energy to share with others, dance, food, conversation, sitting, stopping, noticing, smiling, the quiet