October Light
The sky bright after summer-ending rain,
I sat against an oak half up the climb.
The sun was low; the woods was hushed in shadow;
Now the long shimmer of the crickets’ song
Had stopped. I looked up to the westward ridge
And saw the ripe October light again,
Shining through leaves still green yet turning gold.
Those glowing leaves made of the light a place
that time and leaf would leave.
The wind came cool,
And then I knew that I was present in
The long age of the passing world,
in which I once was not, now am, and will not be,
And in that time, beneath the changing tree,
I rested in a keeping not my own.
Wendell Berry, “This Day” Collected & New Sabbath Poems:1989, VIII.
The month of October is somehow already on its way out, and the vibrantly colored fields of summer flowers have given way to bedded rows of earth, tucked in with compost, feather-meal, and seed. My name is Meredith, and my family arrived here at Little Sparrow Flower Farm in mid-August, after a cross continental road trip from Vancouver, British Columbia. Returning to Durham after years away, it was a gift beyond anticipation to land at Little Sparrow for the first months of our arrival.
I knew Katy would be a great host, and that the spaciousness of the farm would lend itself to our much needed unwinding after international pandemic-infant travel. From early morning walks to greet the chickens to afternoon harvesting from the fields, my new motherhood would be shaped by this gift of time, sharing Katy’s generative life and farm.
This is Gabriel, shortly after we arrived when the farm was bursting with colorful zinnias. Nearly every day I would strap Gabriel to my chest in the baby carrier, grab a pair of scissors and a bucket, and head out to gather as much as I could reach without burying his face too deeply in blossoms and leaves as I stretched to reach just the right flower.The hot, humid days of August were a memorable welcome to the South for my Canadian husband Derek, and the downpour of afternoon rain an endless fascination to Gabriel, as he grows in awareness of the world around him. Rain or shine I could count on an enthusiastic “Hey Gabriel!” from Farmer Mark as he went about his work on the Waller Family Strawberry Farm, most days there were volunteers or staff from the Reality Farm coming and going, and pick-your-own guests were frequenting the fields of Little Sparrow.
From quiet morning walks to visit the chickens, to afternoon stroller-rides harvesting pears or basil, to weekend projects with Katy & Scott, the rhythm of our days were in tune with the symphony of life and activity of the farm.
The weeks went by, and before we were even ready, our plans took shape to move across town into our new home. Though our time at Little Sparrow was brief, sharing the home Katy has made with the land and in the community was rich and will nourish us for seasons to come. The poem by Wendell Berry quoted above captures the recognition that I have for the season that has passed, but whose Keeping will remain present.
