“I haven’t a clue how my story will end, but that’s all right. When you set out on a journey and night covers the road, that’s when you discover the stars.” ~Nancy Willard
Until about five days before Thanksgiving I was not clear about how, or with whom, I would share this holiday, meal, or other form of gathering that I hoped would take place. In years past plans were always a given, smack in front of me, from days leading up to, then following, the holiday, time filled with duties, shopping, sourcing, cooking lists, and fun. I knew what I’d bring to the table to share, I knew how to get where I was going, I knew who I’d be driving in a car with. I’d look forward to the walk up South Road with my Mom and sisters after the meal as much as I’d look forward to sharing the meal with our (often) big, and loud, family and guests.
This year, somehow, my lack of plans felt okay. Welcome, even. It’s an interesting time when things glow in the night, when I cajole myself to look up and take notice.
Thanksgiving is rich with ritual and food-centric wonders but also reflective as it marks days that are shorter, harvests slowing or even coming to an end. It seems to be a holiday when things can be laid back enough, without the hype that other holidays carry, to really, thoroughly, enjoy oneself and her surroundings.
Plans to share Thanksgiving dinner with a sweet friend from college, Sabina, and her family and friends, appeared and worked out seamlessly. I made something new – a Wild Rice and Winter Squash dish – and though it turned out a little watery and sort of bland I felt good about it in the end, taking my disadvantage of cooking with borrowed camping cookware on an electric hot plate into consideration. Of note is the fact that I was cooking hand-harvested wild rice from my abundant supply – a gift from Bob, in Devil’s Lake, Minnesota – and loaned camping gear (from Paulina and Chris), special lava salt (a gift from Cheng), and the use of a sailboat oven and enthusiastic cook mate to round vital aspects of this out. Many people, both new and old friends, are around.
And so I am thankful. Indeed, everyday.
Dr. Beth Netter once said that if you ask for what you need it will always appear. I’ve found that she turns out to be right — often and about many things, but certainly about this. We may not be able to get what we want but we are always provided with what we need, when we know how to simply ask and graciously receive.
……..
Months ago, I was sharing lunch with my cohorts at Food Farm in Wrenshall, Minnesota, when Catherine’s father, a Holstein Dairy expert and tradesman from Iowa, pulled out a small note card with explicit contact information for me: addresses and phone numbers of trusted people and places (plural!), for me to stay with in North Dakota. I was preparing to pass through on my way to Montana, had mentioned this to Catherine who thoughtfully sought her father’s trusted contacts. His gift meant so much to me: the thought behind it and what it offered. It is completely possible to get by and through with little money, safely, comfortably.. And at rare times this clarity is presented in neat handwriting with every detail outlined, plus other trade tips written in the margins for added moral support. I would have called the folks he recommended to me, would have loved the conversation if I stayed with them, I’m sure. But I drove right through the state, feeling high and dry and an urgency to move, arrive somewhere for a while. Until I made it to Billings, Montana.
The chain hotel room cost $80/night but was worth the cash: I stocked up on soap and shampoo and free breakfast in the morning, ran on the treadmill, swam in the pool, and sat alone in the hot tub feeling indulgent and quiet. I remember watching Saturday Night Live in this giant bed until I fell asleep with the TV on, thinking “how can New York comedians be Live in such a far away place as Billings, MT?” The TV remote and notebooks, maps, pens, papers shared the other half of the giant bed.
The photos that follow are for, and of, many people that I am thankful to know. They are people I’ve met this summer and fall and winter and have worked hard alongside, lived with, learned from, and people I look forward to seeing again. And some photos are just of people I love because they’ve also been with me, if not always present.
I am continuing here with a slowness that winter demands. I wish I had photos of many others I’ve met along the way. Someday I will.












































As you can see, there’s a sweet rainbow swiss chard explosion happening now at 









Despite cold and wet weather they are still in the midst of harvesting many
I look forward to visiting my friends in Wrenshall again someday, maybe meeting Ernie for real the next time around and certainly to check in on Catherine’s progress. Catherine is an amazing farmer, and person, who I had the privilege of working with at Food Farm. She has just purchased land to start her very own operation! She’s one to watch, for sure: part of a new wave of young people and women who are taking this work on and can hopefully benefit from the customer demand that Food Farm, after twenty years of operation, has helped cultivate.



















