Mullings from Chantal

Hello Mustard Seed community!

This summer has seen many people enjoy a multitude of experiences at the farm and I am no exception. I know there are many of you who wish they could come to the farm but are unable so I thought I would share a short mulling about a potato digging experience I had in hopes you might get a glimpse into a experience at the farm and enjoy it as much as I did.

Kind wishes,
Chantal

Potato digging
On my way to work in a cubical every day I slip through the natural world so quickly on my bike that little of it is taken in, let alone appreciated. The only memorable part of it is the journey along one canopy-covered path whose shoulders are home to many ground squirrels. As I whiz by on my bike a little crouched creature sits on the path; as I speed closer I notice it is one of the ground squirrels. Heading toward the creature I wonder if I should avoid it or stop. I end up trying to go around it, trying to predict the side of the walk it will escape to. Ground squirrels are remarkably unpredictable so most of the time just as I am about to pass by, it scurries off the path, and more often than not, directly in my path. Each time I close my eyes and invariably let out a squeal that crescendos the closer the escape. I have yet to hit any of them but after each incident I feel just as poorly about the experience as if the creature had been crushed. This Wednesday at the farm I found myself crouched on my hands and knees downwind of the mint bed smelling its crisp aroma and digging in the soil for plump, golden Yukon potatoes. I felt like a cross between a pioneer searching for nuggets of gold and a child who is bent on getting as dirty as possible before their mother comes out to scold them. During a moment’s pause I found myself looking around at all the life and enjoying being at the same speed as nature. Feeling the breeze, hearing the birds and watching the insects scurry back into the soil after being exposed to the sun calms me. It feels as though I am moving at the speed I ought to be moving, the one that the rest of the natural world keeps to. Not the one sped up by phones, internet, television, bikes and cars but the one kept constant with the rotation of the planets around the sun, the tilt of the Earth and the connection of all living things to one another.