Unrooted

No frost yet, which means I’ve lost the first frost pool again. I always pick September 30th and I almost always lose—which is exactly what I want.

Autumn is stunning this year, with no frost yet in sight. Last year’s freeze was October 3rd and we lost bushels of unripened peppers. This year, they’re already turning red and orange and yellow in the field and we have a frost phone tree for calling reinforcements to bring them in when the temperature suddenly drops.

John and I picked tomatoes and peppers this morning to give us a head start on tomorrow’s barn prep because we have so much in the fields still to harvest. I brought some of the scratch and dent vegetables into the house to make batches of salsa for the freezer. With poblanos, gold Brandywines, garlic, white onion, and fresh cilantro, it will taste like summertime when we thaw it this winter.

I needed a little more cilantro, so I took my camera and my clippers out to the garden. Walking back to the herbs, my eye caught Long’s Peak, Mt. Meeker, and Steamboat Mountain to the west. I’ve been writing about place lately and how rooted I am to the Front Range and to this farm, but today I was struck by the sense of “unrootedness,” not for me, but for others close to me who are making a change of place.

I think that’s good. When the place you find yourself is not the place you want to be, it’s okay to move on. If we are to be rooted, we need to find the right place for those roots to take hold, a place that nurtures who we are and who we want to be.

A couple years ago I made a digital story about a time my daughter and I moved on, so I’m posting it here as a reminder—especially to those in transit—that sometimes before you can say hello, you have to say good-bye.

Watch “Bricks”:

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1 Comment

Filed under ecobiography, memoir, sustainable agriculture

One response to “Unrooted

  1. Ariane

    This made me teary-eyed!

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