Hello CSA Community,

We have witnessed the official end of the summer season and the delicious arrival of sweet fall greens (although don’t be surprised if some well-stored summer fruits pop up in your boxes!). I have said my goodbyes to the summer fruits and now our tasks are much less sentimental: rip up dead plants, pull up irrigation, take down trellises. For each moment we pause to look back on our season, we have many more that are filled with work to wrap up the farm for the winter. Please keep in mind that I am planning on having a gorgeous spread of winter produce to sell in January and February at our Winter Farm Market, Fridays 3:30 - 6:30. Enjoy the greens of the cold season and, as always, be good to each other.

love and beet-stained fingers,Farmer Becky

field notesVolume 17 | Number 24 | November 9 & 13, 2012

ECOSYSTEM FARM AT ACCOKEEKwww.accokeekfoundation.org

Sugar Snap PeasMizuna ArugulaSweet Green Peppers

Pick List

Acorn Squash - let cure 1 week before enjoyingBeets with TopsMixed Mustards

Film Screening of “Homecoming” Food Justice SeriesSaturday, November 10, 20122:00 p.m. - 3:00 p.m.FREE

The final installment of this year’s Food Justice Series will be a screening of Homecoming, a film that documents the story of African American farmers in the twentieth century.

Winter’s Eve and Silent Art Auction Saturday, December 8, 20124:00 p.m. - 7:00 p.m.$2 per person; or a donated canned food item

Kick off the holiday season with a delightful adaptation of Dickens’ classic ghost story. Performed as an old-time radio show with live sound effects, “A Colonial Christmas Carol” features Scrooge as a tobacco factor and Bob Cratchit as a free black. And don’t miss the opportunity to purchase a gift for someone special at the Silent Art Auction, which showcases the craftsmanship of the farm’s Stitch ‘n Time textile club and other fine art by local artists.

Pre-registration required for events. For details on any event, please visit www.accokeekfoundation.org or call 301-283-2113.

upcoming events

Farm ManagerBecky Seward

Apprentice FarmersSusan Cook, Sky Harman

Farm InternCrystal Proctor

Farm AssistantBlain Snipstal

green melts to cold brownice upon the tender leaffruits return to ground

On Finding the Fields FrozenBy Farmer Becky

At the time when the hurricane was upgraded, I realized the tomatoes were goners. We had watched them flounder in the dry heat of the summer and then flourish in the early autumn. We had developed attachments: I knew each unlabeled variety, where a genetic variation had made these fruits smaller or where a stray gold tomato had slipped in with the reds. I was waiting for the big late-season Mortgage Lifter to turn its red and grace us all with its large meatiness. And then, with a weather report, we knew in two days time we would lose them. Before the frost of the other week, we covered the youngest of our transplants, and stapled our screened-in greenhouse with warming plastic to try to prolong the basil, cucumbers, peppers, and cherry tomatoes. The temperature dipped to 28°, and that morning, as I drove into the farm, I dreaded encountering what the freeze had done to the crops that had been with us for so many months. We had prepared by harvesting heavy all of the fruit that may still be valuable, but to expect their frozen shriveled form was saddening to me. It is the ultimate experiment in letting go for me, this perpetual acceptance of what the weather is bringing, must bring, in order to maintain the balances the natural world requires. It is part of the process of production for me to know so intimately the land and crops and then expect they will change form drastically when we pull them for compost-making or mow them or wait for them to die in the frost. And while this is a sad thing at times for me, it is also a perpetual lesson in letting go, and loving without expectation. I suppose it is also a lesson in recognizing the positive: on the same morning of the freeze, we ate raw greens with delight, for their nutty sweetness was greatly intensified by the cold. Accepting loss can have great ramifications for personal growth, but I also wonder where the line lies for the sustainable farm to accept crop loss or to fight nature. I tend to err on the side of choosing seeds and crops that

can sustain themselves in extreme conditions, instead of going through extreme measures to cover and insulate crops from cold. In fruit farming, many orchard owners will pay helicopter pilots to break up the cold air that would settle on their trees during a frost. I have been a part of a system where we burned wood in a furnace in the greenhouse on cold nights, returning every few hours to feed the flames.

In our case, we tucked in all sides of the greenhouse, renewed the plastic on its doors, and figured that was enough effort to fool the cold. What we encountered was blackened basil, frozen tomatoes, and frost-killed cucumbers. I look forward to the greens.