Farming the Quiet Season

Everyone talks about surviving winter. Powering through. Beating the darkness.

I think we're getting this backwards. The dark isn't something to fight. It's an invitation to rest and regenerate.

As a farmer, I've learned that the land requires rest. Not as a failure state between productive seasons, but as the thing that makes productivity possible. Soil that never rests becomes depleted. Animals that never rest get sick. And people who never rest? Well, I’m sure you've seen what that looks like.

Winter isn't something to endure. It's an invitation.

This time of year, our farm shifts into a different gear. The frantic summer pace gives way to something quieter. Planning. Repairing. Staring out the window with a cup of coffee instead of rushing out the door.

This weekend marked the winter solstice, and if you've been following along, you know what that means around here: the annual Falling Sky Farm Christmas tree hunt. Every year we cut down our tree and put it up that evening, our way of honoring the shortest day.

Andrea and Eliza have been scouting candidates for weeks, cataloging cedars on their horseback rides to check the animals. Sam and I play our usual role: backseat tree hunters who show up empty-handed and full of opinions.

With a family trip coming up, Sam jokingly floated skipping the tree hunt.

Eliza screamed and shut that down immediately. Without question, the tradition continues.

When the kids were small, I thought we were creating memories for them. Now I realize we were planting something. Eliza's not just participating anymore. She's becoming the keeper of the tradition.

Twenty years into this farming life, winter has taught me that the dark isn't the absence of progress. It's where some of the most important work happens. Roots grow in darkness. Seeds germinate in darkness.

Wishing you a season of unapologetic rest and regeneration.

Your farmer,
Cody