Share In the Harvest Newsletter

As the second-to-last week of our CSA season arrives, we find ourselves at a juncture where the bounty of the harvest is soon to transition into the stillness of winter. In this moment of reflection and gratitude, we turn to words of Reverend Max Coots, whose poignant poem captures the essence of our journey. His prayer, which we share every season, reminds us to honor the diverse friendships and relationships that have nurtured us throughout the season, drawing parallels between the people in our lives and the ever-changing, yet enduring, cycles of nature. In the spirit of thankfulness, let us embrace this prayer as a heartfelt expression of our appreciation for the abundance we’ve shared and the connections we’ve forged.  Enjoy week 15!

by Reverend Max Coots
Let us give thanks for a bounty of people:
For children who are our second planting, and though they grow like weeds
and the wind too soon blows them away, may they forgive us our cultivation
and fondly remember where their roots are.
Let us give thanks.
For generous friends with hearts as big as hubbards, and smiles as bright as blossoms;
For feisty friends as tart as apples;
For continuous friends, who, like scallions,  keep reminding
us that we’ve had them;
For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;
For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and as elegant
as a row of corn, and others as plain as potatoes, and so good for you.
For funny friends, as silly as brussel sprouts;  and serious friends,
as complex as cauliflower and as intricate as onions;
For friends as unpretentious as cabbage, as subtle as summer squash,
as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini,
and who, like parsnips, can be counted on to see you through the long winter;
For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time, and
young friends coming on as fast as radishes;
For loving friends, who wind around us like tendrils and hold us,
despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;
And finally, for those friends now gone like gardens past,
but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;
For all these we give thanks.