Seasonal Migrations
There are so many uncertainties in this world, big ones that span the planet and small ones that we hold inside known only to ourselves. The apprehension of outcomes weighs heavily upon all of us in one way or another, but each day as I walk down to the barn in this season’s change I am reminded of events that have taken place long before my time and that will [hopefully] continue long after I am gone. In addition to democracy, I’m talking about the migration of wild geese.
The poet, Mary Oliver captured the soul of this twice yearly event.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
I’m getting ready for winter here on the farm. Is there enough hay? Is the equipment in good repair? Live this life long enough and eventually much of it becomes routine. When the leaves in the woodlot turn gold it’s time to fill the propane tanks and light the pilot on the heater. Last week I pulled out the insulated coveralls for market just in case as the morning temperatures dipped into the 30’s. I’ve already spied my fellow vendors in knitted hats and winter coats in the early hours before customers arrive in their shorts and flip flops as the day warms.
It's the season of in-between. Not ready to let go of the tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers, but bursting with cauliflower, broccoli, and pumpkins. There’s too many turkeys in the news cycles for anyone to think much of turkeys for their Thanksgiving table as I’ve heard customers chastise themselves for not yet ordering theirs, something they should have done last month. Like the wild geese, the big broad breasted birds continue to come in for a landing just in time for the holidays.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
This is when each year I remind patrons that as the days grow shorter all the pastured poultry producers’ egg supplies will begin to dwindle and as seasonal markets close the year-round markets will become more crowded. Yes, there will be a special holiday market at the Pike & Rose location the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and no, not all the usual market vendors will be there.
Like a favorite pond or field full of corn stubble where the migrating flocks take a rest before moving on, the vendors are looking forward to the weekend after Thanksgiving when there are no markets, a blessed day off before we steel ourselves for the year-end holiday rush and winter markets.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
And so the cycle begins anew. Seasonal crop vendors will start taking their leave, some, like the geese, migrating south for the season. That’s the nature of this business. No need to defend or deny it. If we do, that will put a wrench in the supply chain and everyone will suffer. While most of the Honkers migrate, there are some who are year-round residents, just like the vendors at the market. But unlike the Cobra Chickens, if you get too close to us, we won’t pinch you.