This past Sunday was both the summer solstice and Father's Day, and it was a day of celebration despite a dark sky and rain. For years, we've written about the solstice and its role as a marker of the farming season for us. But as our roles have evolved over time from farmers and beginning farmer mentors to farmers and student educators, we see the summer solstice in new ways. Most importantly, it begins to signify a shift in our planning and work from executing the plans we laid for summer, to planning and preparations for autumn and winter. It's certainly a challenge to stay present and look ahead, but each day offers time for both.
The summer solstice marks the longest day of the year, stretching daylight to its peak. From this point forward, the days grow imperceptibly shorter, a few minutes at a time. Plants respond to this shift, perhaps more than many of us realize. Spinach and asparagus bolt and go to seed; strawberries over ripen; bok choy flowers. It's the plant world's way of transitioning from growth to reproduction and, eventually, rest. Animals feel it too: birds begin to wind down their breeding season, fireflies reach their peak — a reminder that summer, for all its abundance, is already beginning its slow turn toward autumn.
The cycle of fresh-to-preserved food begins with the marker of long summer days. Our food traditions begin to evolve as we see these last harvests appear — a cue that it's time to preserve. Our longtime friends and farming partners, the Klugs, help many of us with preservation. They begin to preserve their harvest of frozen early summer berries right about now, offering this nourishing food to us all from winter through to early spring. We will soon do the same with our bountiful crops like tomatoes and peppers. With zucchini, kohlrabi, beets, onions and cucumbers on the horizon, we cherish this moment of what we call ready-to-eat harvests: fresh greens, scallions and fresh herbs. These greens are not generally preserved, which is a wonderful break in the food preservation cycle — ensuring the preserved harvest is used up and kitchens are ready to accept the harvests to come.
Beyond food, Jeff's school calendar is updated, class lists are in place, and he's beginning the planning for the fall semester of his agriculture class, LEAF (Land, Environment, Animals and Food). With his class enrollment doubling (!), he's taking a moment to breathe before looking forward to taking on the new challenge of engaging even more students on the farm.
The solstice gives us exactly that — a reflection point. A day to look back at the season we've grown, and forward to the students who will help us harvest it. Sharing this farm with young people who are learning, for the first time, where food comes from and how land works. The longer days of summer gave us time to plant, to tend, and to reflect. Now, as the light begins its slow retreat, we turn our attention to fall — to classrooms, to lesson plans, to a new group of students who will arrive on this land and be changed by it, as so many have before them. That feels like something worth celebrating — rainy Sunday and all.
