Implicit Trust

“I believe in the birds, and the implicit trust in the loving providence that feeds them.” This is from A Summer Creed by A. A. Argow. I love that poem (I’ll leave you with its entirety at the end of the blog), but I wanted to start this off with that beloved line and talk a bit about, “the implicit trust in the loving providence that feeds them.”

Animals in their natural element are in perfect balance with nature and her rhythms.Through both observation and trial and error, they have learned the ways of the environment and in that learning a dynamic connection with the place they call home. Though tirelessly busy at times (growing, sustaining, gathering, storing and sometimes just being), they exude an implicit trust with a force that they will be housed and sheltered in all seasons of the year. They trust the earth will provide and in that trust a symbiotic relationship unfolds.

Those of us who have homesteaded have experienced this sort of trust in real time. Sowing of seeds, watching the plants grow, harvesting and then storing the gifts of fall for the winter. The rain, streams, and pond provide the water for drinking, bathing, and irrigation, and the forest provides the wood for shelter and warmth. And though not everyone can homestead (or want to), everyone does experience this trust with nature. Most of us are sheltered and fed (thank you Earth!), but we bear witness of this trust (and verifiable truth) through the observance of the season shifts. We all trust summer will come to an end and fall will descend upon us as we witness and experience a seen yet unseen force; something doing something so profound and real and all on its own. We can want summer to last longer or fall to come quicker, but nature is always right on time.

Here at Alpenglow Farms, we continue to create the right conditions for our little ecosystem by mimicking nature and then letting go. This means we watch and walk the land daily, observing what we are doing in coherence with nature and observing what needs more balance. Our homestead is at year eight of no till and our inputs are almost zero. We are getting closer and closer to living as nature beings while also understanding we are human beings. This means having implicit trust with this land we’ve called home for over two decades; working hard, watching, learning, and then letting it be.

There was one apple tree that came with our property when we bought it. It’s the one my two daughters grew up underneath. So many hours and years I spent under that tree playing with my girls. We’d climb the tree and notice all the beings that lived on her and inside her. We’d watch the different birds come and go during the season shifts while we watched the clouds or the sunrises and sunsets. We’d paint or picnic in her shade, read books and play make-believe under her branches, harvest her apples (while sharing generously with our forest friends!) and spend the autumn afternoons canning. Since such times I have planted many fruit trees and have had the opportunity to watch them grow into life sustaining and life giving beings.

My youngest daughter Josephine and I harvested the plums and pears a few weeks ago and last week the apples. It takes a bit of time, as do most things worthwhile, but watching a tree all year, lovingly picking the fruit, spending a few days canning her love, and sharing it with my community is such a gift. We are so grateful to be part of this world and so grateful to spend time doing sacred chores with nature. We are grateful for the life force our fruit trees provide. It is a blessing to bear witness to these visible yet invisible shifts and to have an implicit trust in the loving providence that feeds us.