Over two years had passed since I’d seen Mike. Last weekend was a very cool reunion.

When I volunteered on his organic farm in 2007 there were days I couldn’t believe he did what he did. He worked so hard! He had so much to do and could never stay on top of it all. When I would be sweating half my body weight and feeling like my bent knees were going to explode, Mike was cool as a cucumber in long sleeves, without even a drop of sweat on his brow. I was just helping out a couple of days a week. I could go home and soak myself in a hot bath, and not have to worry about a million little farm details and pleasing 50 CSA customers. I liked farming… on a very part-time basis. Community gardening was more my style.

Or so I thought.

Now I’m back in the home (er, hot) province, with a little farm and a big dream. Mike has to have something to do with it. He must have filled my head with tiny farming propaganda when we were weeding his fields. Whatever he did, I’m glad he did it.

Roddy and I spent at least four hours with Mike last Sunday. We walked his fields, got the lay of the land, dug up Jerusalem Artichoke, visited his hens, and y’know, talked farm talk! Then we went into town together with handy resources in tow, and talked more farm talk over coffee. Roddy and I had endless questions, and Mike is detailed and philosophical so there was an rich exchange between experienced guru and novice wannabes.

Back at Mike’s farm again we poured over organic certification criteria housed in a fat dusty binder, and got the inside scoop on the ins and outs of certification. I remember Mike showing me this binder back in 2007 and thinking to myself: hmmm, great work Mike, but why are you showing me this? I don’t want to be a farmer! Seeing the binder again was a defining moment for me. In a few weeks, I will be filing our first organic certification application. Two days ago, I was staking off 50 x 50 foot plots in the field with Roddy. Yesterday, I was reading Organic Farming: Everything You Need to Know in bed. Today, I was in a New Farmers Symposium. And tomorrow, well, tomorrow I resume work as usual, but this week, Roddy and I will be developing our farm vision.

And I thought I didn’t want to be a farmer…

We’ve had the most striking full moons for the past few nights. Last night it looked as though a giant floodlight was beaming down on the field. We may need that extra light on busy harvest days. For now, I just marvel at it’s serene beauty.

I keep the light off when I make late night trips to the bathroom so that I can get an undistorted view of the light the moon casts. I notice - for the first time ever - that it’s position shifts noticeably every hour. When I went to bed last night the moon was shining brightly from the south outside our sliding door. When I woke in wee hours it had crept to the southwest, giving me that perfect bathroom view (could the moon be responsible for restless sleeps?).

It called me outside this evening for one of my favourite country experiences: a moon shadow walk. I love walking at night. Anywhere, really. Between giant skyscrapers on King Street, down cobbled streets in Edinburgh, along wooded paths with a flashlight, past bizarre neighborhoods in Berlin, over mountainous sand dunes in the Sahara. There’s something about the moodiness of night lighting that draws me in.

A moon shadow walk tops them all though. All distractions seem to fade away as the scene turns into a simple connection between me, the moon, and the ground beneath my feet. I don’t hear the sounds of nature as I do when I walk in the pitch black and have to rely on my other senses. It’s silent. Just me, the moon, the earth.

Perhaps it’s the same for plants? Part of my winter research includes delving into different ways of growing, and followers of biodynamic farming claim that growing by the moon’s cycles can improve growth by 10-15%. It’s fascinating stuff this lunar gardening but I’m not sure I have the patience to follow it strictly. Anyone tried it?

Sleep tight, my pretties!

Carrot Fest was an excellent excuse to get over to Everdale Farm & Environmental Learning Centre. BBQ, an abundance of carrots in big bowls on harvest tables, workshops, guided farm tours, self-guided exploration - who could ask for more on a sunny Saturday afternoon? In the spirit of the orange root vegetable, the staff placed laminated pages of the sweet kids book Carrot Soup by John Segal along a path through one of their gardens.

What a fabulous idea!

I remember when Everdale first crossed my radar three years ago. Roddy and I were living in Toronto and being exposed through our work to inspirational food security groups and the world of community gardens. I was bubbling over with enthusiasm for this newfound arm of my passion for engaged communities, sustainable agriculture, seed diversity and simply, food - thinking about food, preparing food, eating food. It’s safe to say that food has always been at or very near the forefront of my mind (and I am relieved and eternally grateful that I have a fast metabolism).

When I learned more about Everdale, the centre sat in my mind as a beacon of alternative living. From it’s web pages I learned about straw bale construction and farmer apprenticeship opportunities. I didn’t know it at the time, but Everdale was part of the inspiration for my volunteer experience at an organic farm the following summer. It was also one of the sparks in the creation of my mission to integrate community, deeper connection, and organic agriculture, which ultimately led to the development of Roddy’s and my shared dream to create an organic market garden.

I visited Everdale in person for the first time when I was back home in Ontario last September. My mom and dad were curious to get a tour of Home Alive - the farm’s green powered straw bale house - and I wanted to suss the place out. At the time, Roddy and I were toying with a grand plan of either WWOOFing our way down the west coast into South America together, or hanging onto one of our jobs (mine) and doing an intensive apprenticeship at Everdale (Roddy). Even in the rain Everdale was quite magical, but Roddy and I decided the apprenticeship and WWOOFing options weren’t right for either of us. We wanted to jump right into our own farm. A somewhat scarier option, but definately exhilarating!

Funny how things come full circle. Roddy and I never expected to return to Ontario, and now we are only a 15 minute drive from Everdale. We’re very lucky to have landed so near their experienced staff, some of whom oversee LandLINK - an initiative that connects beginning farmers with farmland owners and farming opportunities in Erin Township.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering,

As a newcomer to the world of gardening and farming, last summer was a baptism of fire. I launched myself headfirst into soil by day and the books by night. My hands on education at Thurston Organic Farm included seeding flats, weeding, prepping beds, transplanting, watering, thinning, harvesting, storing, washing and bagging, scatter seeding, and (drumroll) driving the small but mighty Kubota tractor.

Among the highlights were witnessing the progress of vegetables from wee seedlings to full blown vegetables. I also gained an appreciation for veggies that the grocery store just doesn’t deliver: rows of broccoli growing in the soil resembles a mini forest, beet greens are edible and delicious, purple carrots and beans aren’t frankenfoods, and holes in greens don’t necessarily denote disease – a pest has likely munched your lunch.

Sampling, both in the field and in Frances’ fine country kitchen, was another great joy. It wasn’t uncommon for Mike to whip out his Leatherman and slice up a ripe veggie for us to tuck into. I’ve gotta say that I hadn’t experienced genuine gastronomic pleasure until I indulged in veggies I’d taken part in growing. Whether the experience was in the field or at the dinner table with a vintage wine, food that I had a hand in growing just satisfied on a whole new level.

While being on the farm far overshadowed my reading list, juggling both certainly enriched my beginner gardener experience. On Mike’s recommendation I read Eliot Coleman’s ‘The New Organic Grower’ and Mike’s own Tiny Farm Blog, which provides a wealth of information for the aspiring tiny farmer.

I also read most of the articles from a Ryerson graduate studies course in Urban Food Security. There were no test results to display on the fridge, however – my proudest moments were displaying my bounty on the kitchen table for Roddy and the rare visitor (Lindsay is in the boons) to ooo and aah at.

This man is a legend, and he’s only been in the biz for a few years. My ‘real live’ inspiration in market gardening, Mike is not what I expected to find on the only organic farm within the vicinity of the town where I spent last summer. Having played his cards in Manhattan, he cashed in his chips and did a complete one eighty from the dot-com world of magic money, to picking up farming skills and starting a booming two acre organic farm from scratch.

Not only did Mike teach me the basics of growing veggies, he also entertained me, spurred many big picture discussions in the field while sucking on cheap cigars and inspired me with his hands on approach to life.

On the couple of acres he’s cultivated, Mike grows everything on Thurston Organic Farm from purple carrots and neon pumpkins to heirloom tomatoes and the best arugula I’ve ever tasted. He has a loyal following at the local farmer’s market and in a matter of a couple of years has expanded his CSA shares to over 50.

This year Mike is adding chickens to his ever expanding project. I keep telling him that he should farm out west where the growing season is longer but this man is unphased by the bitter Ontario winters – instead of holing up for the cold season he grows seedlings in a warm milkhouse and then transfers them to his greenhouse. With his new brood of hens he might as well be a father… I can’t see him moving his feathered family across the country.

Mike is the real deal. Hearty and self-taught, he tucks into life without expectations and everything comes up roses.