Honoring the Dying Time

Life and death are intertwined on the farm. Regularly I witness the natural miracle of birth and death over and over again. A duckling emerges from its shell and is killed in 2 days. The garden grows and is killed by frost in a night and seasonally the entire landscape appears to die in the winter darkness and cold.

Death is not bad. It does not have to be scary and is  impossible to avoid in this life. The real tragedy is a life or death without dignity and honor.

In this season we honor all that has come before and our ancestors. We offer gratitude. In the process, we put our energy into our roots, transmuting the loss and storing for the birth that follows every season of death. Like the molting chickens, they look like they are sick, they stop laying and then regenerate for Spring egg abundance.

This year we lost one of our dear farm members, Martha Saches. You may remember Martha, our eldest member at 93, often sitting in the sun, conversing with the birds, washing eggs or snoozing in her chair on garden group and plork days.  Much personal gratitude to Martha for her continued reassurance that I could run a farm as a single woman.  As a fellow farmer from Maine until her 80s, Martha inspired all with every visit. Fly free Martha. You are in our hearts always.

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