My Last Post as Intern

I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you all for giving me the resource to share my experiences with farming.  As I said in my first post, I came into this summer with no background in farming at all - I had never been to a farmers market, and the only time I had spent on an actual farm was one hour of “volunteer” work picking onions on a kibbutz in Israel.  I have to say that I feel accomplished with my growth as an employee of a farm for several reasons.  First is my general familiarity with the farm itself.  Walking around the farm now as compared to my first day there, I know where I am allowed to step, which plants are meant to be picked (or not touched at all), the proper technique for using various tools, etc.  Second is my new appreciation for the farming community.  Meeting people that are so passionate about farming that they not only dedicated their lives to it, but also to teaching and encouraging others to get involved was amazing.  I was also very impressed with the farm’s first year of volunteers.  Despite joining a brand new program to encourage the practice of organic farming, I was able to see how much the volunteers developed as independent farmers themselves; not only on the main area of farm land, but also on their individual 10x10 plots.  Third, and probably most important, is that the farm changed me as a person - not just internally, but externally as well.  I developed large callouses on my palms from pulling weeds the size of small trees.  I now have a very defined line between my arms and shoulders - arms being a much darker shade of pale than the shoulders.  My hat has engrained a circular ring of matted hair on my head with tufts of hair sticking out to the side, even with hat off.  I now have dirt under my fingernails that will serve as a reminder of the farm for several weeks as cutting them did not remove all the dirt.  All these physical changes cumulated in one moment at our last work party when one of the farm volunteers walked by me as I was hacking at a large growth of weeds and said, “Wow Danny!  You look just like a farmer!”.  I took a short hiatus from my hacking, leaned casually against my scythe, and pondered that statement with a smile on my face.  Perhaps it was the combination of brown shoes, jeans, a sweat-soaked white t-shirt and hat, or maybe, just maybe, it was the general air of confidence I had developed for my work during my time on the farm.