“The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.”

Masanobu Fukuoka, The One-Straw Revolution

Morning Colors

Come, let's take a walk through the early morning dew.
After days of clouds and rain, the sky has cleared and the sun is once again warm.


Nothing smells fresher than the earth after it's been washed by gentle rains.


We are so lucky, here in the country, to always have fresh air...
except of course when the neighboring farms spread their cow manure!


I am enjoying the last bits of summer's color.


In all too short a time these colors will disappear...


and the farm will take on the drab greys and browns of winter.


'Til then, however, I will take note of every blossom.


I will ponder the veins on the elephant ear leaves.


I will enjoy the symphonies of birdsong, of katydids and crickets.

Butterfly house in the butterfly garden.
Because... in the blink of an eye they will have faded away...
replaced by the silence and stillness of winter's slumber.


I want to memorize the depth of each color so that I can conjure it once again
to sustain me through that time of monochromatic rest.


I can tell the season is about to change.
The signs are all there.
The spiders are busy spinning their intricate webs...
weighted down by the morning dew.


The blackbirds are flocking together... 
soon we will see huge...

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