Inspiration for the Farmer in All of Us

    • A beautiful worksong for frozen farmers.

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      02/17/13

    • The Summer Day

      Who made the world?
      Who made the swan, and the black bear?
      Who made the grasshopper?
      This grasshopper, I mean-
      the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
      the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
      who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
      who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
      Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
      Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
      I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
      I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
      into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
      how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
      which is what I have been doing all day.
      Tell me, what else should I have done?
      Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?

      By Mary Oliver

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      02/16/13

    • A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in

      Unknown

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      02/15/13

    • photo from Tumblr

      Today’s sunrise from a foggy kitchen.

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      02/14/13

    • Follow the appropriateness of the season, consider well the nature and conditions of the soil, then and only then least labor will bring best success. Rely on one’s own idea and not on the orders of nature, then every effort will be futile.

      Jia Si Sie, 6th Century China

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      02/13/13

    • Be humble for you are made of earth, be noble for you are made of Stars

      Serbian Proverb

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      02/12/13

    • When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

      Wendell Berry from Sex, Economy, Freedom and Community

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      02/11/13

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