The world is dark when I slink out of bed. I make my way to the barn, and by 6:15 we are in the fields harvesting swiss chard. The first rays of sunlight make the rainbow-colored stalks gleam.
This August, I worked at my friend Craig’s farm in New Hampshire. I have gotten to know Craig over the course of twelve years, since his sister was my first grade teacher and my family joined his CSA. I was drawn to spend a week at his farm the summer after Third Form because I am interested in small-scale, organic agriculture. This year, I deepened my connection to the farm.
Some of the things I did there were making friends with a barn cat named Woo, picking football-sized rocks out of a carrot field, learning to drive a tractor, weeding, more weeding, harvesting onions, and transplanting lettuce. The best part about my time there, though, was making friends with people in the community. They all had such interesting stories to tell. It reminded me of Groton. As the day wore on and the sun got hotter, we stayed joyful and calm by listening and laughing.