A new planting is like having another child, requiring patience and sacrifice and a resounding optimism for the future

I feel persecuted by the power of mother nature, who dwarfs my farm with her unpredictable character. Yet I cling to a spirit of survival. I observe others, my family and neighbors, as we brace for the storm with a humbling humility.

Opportunity is born with each new year.

Good neighbors are worth more than an extra sixteen trees.

All good farmers become connoisseurs of dirt and dust.

I get superstitious in late summer.

A type of humility marks a real farmer. Those of us who battle nature all year must ultimately accept the had we're dealt.