This morning, I stepped into biting wind to care for my animals. I was surprised by how it fed me.
The cold came upon us suddenly after weeks and months of rain. Yesterday, I shivered as I walked along a nature trail with a friend. This morning, from inside my cozy room, the wind sounded fierce. Drafts of cold air blew through the cracks . . .
When is an edge soft enough
that there is space for dancing?
Is there dancing?
Or are all the walls
so rigid and firm
That nothing crosses...
except air, light, water,
Sound, words, vibration?
What passes? What is held back?
A window opens,
A new day dawns,
Suddenly so . . .
I'd like to tell you a story about food that pops with flavor and vitality. Such food is grown on biodynamic farms using an approach initiated by Rudolf Steiner. In 1924, he gave a series of eight lecture to farmers in Poland. They had noticed that the quality of their produce was declining and they wanted to learn how to improve their . . .
The cow attends to what the stars share with the pasture.
Each blade of orchard grass; each leaf of chicory and clover hold a unique message.
The moisture on her wet nose drifts close to the plants,
calling forth subtle scents as she swings her head from side to side.
She chooses which tuft she will wrap . . .
This love affair with moving steel, how long will it last? How will it end?
Your steel machine, Is it green, yellow, blue or red? New or used? Chevy or Ford? Domestic or foreign?
Where did you get it? How much did you pay? What does it haul?
How many miles will it go? How many hours will it work? . . .
My neighbor cares for his land, his family and his community. This year, he planted fields of corn and soybeans. For weeks, he had delayed his harvest: the ground too wet to drive farm machinery across it.
Late last week, the ground froze slightly. My neighbor hired a man with a combine that had tracks like a bulldozer to harvest corn. . . .
What do you raise on your farm?
Dare I say out loud, "Pregnant space."
The elusive space between
visible and invisible, inner and outer,
self and other, past and future,
A place of forming, becoming, blossoming....
This morning, as clouds sit low and heavy--again,
The white tails of deer bob . . .