This summer I did something I never have before. I jumped off the job bandwagon. Instead of working a restaurant job like I had the previous years of my working life, I got a job on a certified organic farm in my hometown. I lived and worked there, the only employee. The farm owner, Kurt, would come out every now and then to do his thing, but for the most part I put in all the work. And I LOVED it! I loved the solitude, the communion with the plants, not having my summer revolve around tourist season…. the list goes on. And I can’t forget to mention how utterly perfect the weather was this summer. Warm, sunny days, enough rain (with a few droughts here and there) and when it rained, it rained at night. Plus not to mention, I literally poured my blood, sweat, and tears into the earth. I was connected. Estaba perfecto. But this blog is not about my summer experience. It’s about the end of it. Today, October 1st, marks the end of a summer that fairly flew by on gilded wings. Nearing the end of my tenure on the farm, I found myself more and more unwilling to be alone at the farm. That was caused by a mixture of things- A rekindled romance, a sudden shift in the weather, and the introduction of the Chaider at Roast n Toast (hot apple cider and chai? Oooohhh yes). There’s probably more to it, but those are the most prevalent reasons. And I was so excited to be done, so the last two weeks of my time in Northern Michigan before moving to the REAL Northern Michigan (Houghton) could be spent in coffee shops, working on blogs and knocking off a few books from my exponentially increasing book list.
So my work days got shorter, my motivation creaked around inside my mind before settling itself in a corner at R & T, and my apartment got messier. However, today marks the end of all those shenanigans. Because today was the last day on the farm. My excitement at what lies ahead got waylaid by the anxiety of change. As the end of the day approached, I was mildly panicking. I was thinking of the projects on the farm I had yet to do (SOOO much seed collection to take care of), the last wander through my beloved woods I needed in order to say my goodbyes to the trees, the baking left unbaked (I did not bake a single pie this summer, although LOTS of jam was made), and the myriad other activities left unaccomplished. Yes, I know that all this panicking arose from the common fear and dislike of change and transition shared by many humans, and as I was looking for excuses to not be done on the farm, I had to remind myself that there will always be things left undone. It’s a part of our connection to the places we leave behind. You leave behind memories, footsteps, artifacts, and a plethora of other things at every place you leave. And the things left undone are just a part of your web. Your love. Your connection.
I am ready for what’s next.