Submitted photo
The sun sets over The Farm at Skeeter Creek near Orion, Ill.
Last year, my husband and I started another job. Not because we were looking for more things to occupy our time, or because it would bring in extra income. It was because events and experiences in our lives had culminated in a yearning for some way to appropriately express our passion for environmental stewardship without making us Earth First! saboteurs (the latter being a role that just didn’t suit us). Something beyond the recycling, composting, rainwater collecting and volunteering we already were doing. So, we started a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) garden. It wasn’t like we woke up one morning and were struck with a notion to cash everything in, buy a farm and grow vegetables for a living. We both have busy professional lives in community non-profits that we believe provide valuable benefits to people. Add to that a child who just started school. Gardening was a therapeutic outlet, mostly a hobby, for us. In order to do it well, and on a larger scale than our urban backyard, would, in essence, be like adding another part-time (at least!) job to our busy lives. But starting a CSA garden was a terrific challenge that spoke deeply to our values for the earth and the incredible variety of plants that sustain us. Our CSA partnership began when an acquaintance, Larry McDonald, showed me plans for some farmland he owns in Orion, Ill. I actually suggested he add a CSA garden. “What’s that?” he asked. I told him what I knew about CSA and how it worked like a subscription to a private farmers market. His response was revolutionary in a laid-back, Larry kind of way: “Sounds great. Why don’t you do it?” That’s how, on a handshake and a rough couple of acres, we committed to grow heirloom vegetables and fruits using organic methods. Our first season was an adventure, with a select few subscribers chosen for their generosity, flexibility and desire to eat organic, locally grown produce. Friends unfailingly nudged us forward; family helped; Larry proudly showed off the transition taking place at Skeeter Creek, the area he’s repurposing from its former life as conventional cropland. We tested our skills, stamina and patience. I’ve never seen tomato hornworms so big, but we cheered when we found the ones laden with parasitic wasps because they helped us regain confidence that we would prevail in our battle to protect the tomatoes. The fingerling potatoes were tedious to harvest, but the setting sun and smell of freshly turned earth made them worth the effort. The tomatoes were fragile beyond belief and glorious in flavor and abundance, making heirloom disciples of all of us. Of course there was too much zucchini and not enough kohlrabi. And my fondness for kale grew like a mature romance as I watched it slowly get established, flourish, then endure the long days of the summer until I ended our affair before the first hard frost. At the end of the season, we gathered to celebrate at The Farm and enjoy each other’s company. In our small, eclectic group we represented professionals, tradesmen, researchers, designers, entrepreneurs and activists. We were connected by the land and its abundance, and we knew where our food came from and who grew it. The Farm at Skeeter Creek is located about 20 minutes east of the Quad-Cities near Orion, Ill. A limited number of shares are available this year. Inquiries from potential subscribers are welcome. E-mail s.o.carlson@mchsi.com or call (309) 737-1099. For information on other regional CSAs, see Resources.
