This past Saturday, we experienced the Summer Solstice, our longest day of the year in the Northern hemisphere - and what a day it was on the farm.  Over 20 people came out for our first-ever Crop Mob mass weeding event, shareholders picked peas and herbs together, and family members came by to visit staff and enjoy a stroll around the fields, admiring the beauty and our hard work.

Here's a favorite poem to honor of this special time of year:

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

- Mary Oliver