From the Field: The multitudes that surround us

From the Field: The multitudes that surround us

Reflections on pandemic farming in solitude

By Lindsay Napolitano

* Our “From the Field” Series features projects, production, and reflections derived from our work at home on our two farm sites in near Frenchtown, New Jersey.*

This season is shaping up to be a season of revision and revelation both on the farm, and in the wider world that surrounds us. There have been no markets here this year, no events, no classes, and barely a visitor on the farm to speak of. And in the silence and stillness, an opportunity for deeper listening has risen into focus. In the absence of rote imposition, the natural world rings out loud with its secrets - not really secrets at all, just intelligence that can go unheard in the heavy to-do of the day to day.

Practicing permaculture, biomimicry, plant medicine, and growing in mixed perennial polycultures were decidedly fringe endeavors within the agricultural community at the start of the last decade when we began Fields Without Fences, and we are no strangers to cocked heads and raised eyebrows. They still are to a certain extent, but if growing interest from clients, fellow farmers, conferences, and students alike is any indication at all, these ideas increasingly have resonance, and may prove to be foundational for profound ecological healing, and a regenerative future. 

And yet, farming in this solitude, in this absence of scrutiny this season, it’s become clear (even still) how much the gaze of others has imprinted itself in the landscape. How much expectation and conformity has influenced the way we do the things we do. How much do I apply my hand in the landscape to please others? How much do I bend the arc of the world to meet someone’s expectation? In this way, the deep seeded tendency toward perfunctory control over nature, really limits the potential for expression, experimentation, dialogue, and collaboration with the natural world. There is always room to grow, there is always something to put down, and something new to pick up.

This season we have been scaling up - from 10 acres to 45 acres - and scaling down, reassessing where our energy is directed, asking tough questions about value, necessity, and service. There is no one size fits all in farming. Each landscape, by virtue of its expressed topography, its varying lines and curves, is a unique expression of an environment, and must be walked to be felt, and approached with an openness to be truly known. This season has been filled with quiet here, with enough stillness to hear the earth sing its multitudes.