Back roads, getting real, and ladybugs

Even in two weeks, it is possible to form a strong attachment to the projects I have worked on at a farm and the dream of the owners.

I arrived at Moore Farms on a beautiful, warm sunny day. For the first time this trip, I drove with the top down on my convertible, feeling as if I had robbed a bank and gotten away with it. I had just left Knotty Pine Farm and was charged up from great conversations, friends, and dreaming.

This is not to say that I wasn't a bit nervous about a) going to a new farm; and b) going to a new farm as the sole Wwoofer in the back hills of Alabama. Back hills means back roads, and once I was clear of Atlanta, I was traveling on windy two lane highways. As the incidence of trailers and road kill increased, so did my anxiety. I was used to back hills because I spent most of my childhood weekends in West Virginia at my family's farm, but this was Alabama, the South, and I was alone. Plus, there was that confederate flag hanging across a porch of a house along the way. This was new territory for me.

When I finally pulled down the road leading to the farm, my stomach dropped as I navigated major potholes on one of the worst dirt roads I had ever seen. The scene was not encouraging. My first view of the farm wasn't encouraging either. Overgrown grass, a animal yard that was decidedly not pastoral, and a pile of trash on the hillside. "Trash? Seriously?" I thought. "There is no way I can stay here."

I parked, entered a building that had a sign, and found three women working away. Laurie, the farm owner, greeted me with a big smile. "You must be Tracy". I admitted that I was. Laurie dropped what she was doing and gave me a quick tour of the farm. The trash was not garbage, but a huge pile of packing boxes. Moore Farm (and Friends) is a regional CSA (Community Supported Agriculture). I was excited about their model because they have a sophisticated online purchasing system and broker local foods and produce from over 30 farms. Cardboard packing boxes, lots of them, is an unfortunate bi- product of this system. Every week or so, the boxes become fuel for an enormous bonfire.

Laurie showed me my digs. I had a renovated barn to myself. The bed was cozily made up, there was a kitchen and bath, and a huge wall of windows overlooking woods and fields. I immediately went out to the fields to inspect the grounds (and to seek a phone connection, the lack of which was magnifying my anxiety). They were beautiful, filled with red clover, barley, and wildflowers. Laurie and Will use a cover crop system where they plant the cover crop next to the food crop. Once the food crop has been harvested, the cover crop takes over. Because it was still early Spring, there was not a lot in the ground except for carrots. I would get to know those carrots intimately.

It was hard not to defrost around Laurie. She was easily one of the most knowledgeable people I had encountered on my trip. She was full of information, sharing with me the ins and outs of the business, candid about hardships, and incredibly positive and uplifted about the benefits. The other really important detail: Moore Farms is walking the talk. It was the only farm so far that served only organic/naturally grown foods and used environmentally friendly products everywhere. No cheating on this farm. And the results were apparent to me later when I was in the fields. I saw more ladybugs than I've ever seen anywhere. And, the bird life was incredible.

Any issue, was decidedly mine. This was the first farm that I visited where the owners were making a living. There were some stark realities with living within the farming budget. The animal pens were all made of recycled materials. The fences were functional, not pretty. Yet. The cleansers were enviro-correct and more expensive. I was humbled. I legitimately had to ask myself about my own priorities. And so, my next two weeks of farming began. A new dream to wrap my brain around.