Hands in Dirt

Farm on a cold spring day

An impossible deadline, children at school only part-time, unemployment and paperwork, seriously ill family member on the other side of the world, no end of restrictions in sight, no real encounters, fatigue.

Spending two days at friends’ farm couldn’t have come at a better time. Being dragged somewhat against our expectations – but we should have known! – into the rhythm of labour: brilliant. Digging one’s hands in soil and indulging in repetitive but profoundly essential work… still a few years ago, I had no idea how meaningful it can be.

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