Hellos and goodbyes.

Hellos and goodbyes carry on throughout the farming season leaving in their wake hard days, soft days, big smiles, heartache, gratitude, and everything in between. The hellos beam light, sometimes into crevasses of your body and spirit you didn't even know existed. They are the chirps of baby chicks settling into their brooders, the soft bah of a newborn lamb, the first seed to pop up through the soil, the cows thundering through the pasture exploring their new home, the garlic popping up after a long winters hibernation. These endless hellos bring aliveness to everything and simply hold the hope of the season in their hands. 

And then there are the goodbyes. The goodbyes you know are coming and the ones you don't, the goodbyes that sink your heart and make you question what it all means. Sending animals to processing after a long season of loving them, picking up dead chickens after a coyote pack helped themselves, tilling up a crop you didn't even get to harvest because it failed, watching an ewe who has given you countless lambs get old and frail, a lamb who never even had a chance, losing an animal at your own expense...

Goodbyes used to feel like they were cruelty slapping me in the face. The intimacy that deepened with death on the farm felt too hard, too real. Shying away from it was the only way I thought to manage it. Ignorance is bliss as they always say. But as the seasons went on I noticed something shifting. With each goodbye I started to grow into the reality that these goodbyes are just as important as the hellos. The goodbye to the animal I loaded up on the trailer, leads to an abundance of loved meat honoring their life. It fuels hundreds of people with nourishment that seeps into every cell. The goodbye to the crop that died without harvest blooms curiosity of how we can do better next season, teaching us tips and tricks that will serve. The wildlife attacks of our animals lead to the inventiveness of new ideas on how to protect them, bettering their lives in doing so. The goodbye to the lamb that didn't have a chance sews compassion and tenderness into our hearts that makes it beat stronger for every life we care for. 

So here I am thanking the goodbyes as much as the hellos for the depth they allow me to carry. They have taught me to think twice, be uncomfortable, love deeply, live slowly, feel it all, and simply, to be a better farmer.