This space is one that I created to help me find my way to a more mindful way of living. My words come from a place of genuine hope and happiness with this life my family and I share on this beautiful piece of land that stole our hearts from the second we pulled into the driveway for the first time.
My pictures serve as visual proof that we live a good life and are slowly but surely creating the space of our dreams - both inside and out. A place that makes room for as many creatures as possible - be it human or those that make their home in our surrounding pastures, meadows, forests and pond.
And it isn't hard for me to write about all those hope filled things. Until my hope feels compromised. Times like those - like right now actually - I stay away. Because nobody needs to read about more heartache and strife in the world.
But I can't let this one stay trapped in my head and heart anymore.
For the first time this week I have seen fellow farmers and homesteaders actively using the word "drought" to describe this growing season. A particularly worrisome word given it comes after a year of flood (2017) and another year of drought (2016).
Three consecutive years of extremes.
And the feeling of worry that has been growing within has now been realized and lives out there for people to absorb.
I worry about all the farmers for whom growing food for our tables is the sole income stream.
I worry that the inevitable increase in costs as a result of the drought will make more people balk at the price of food. Which perpetuates a vicious cycle that keeps the farmers down. A close friend who farms put this to me and it stuck with me hard - "why is it okay to charge too little for food? And $1000 for an iPhone."
I worry about all those that will just stop farming. And not because they don't love what they do. Or that they don't provide a valuable product.
But worry. It's not a helpful feeling...unless it is a motivator for action.
Please. Support your small farmers. In every way you can. We need them.