AgriCulture: The Blind Leading the Rest

Friday felt a bit like Bible Day at the farm. The day started with the news which many commentators have described as a story of biblical character, in which inordinately proud or entitled individuals are taught that they are not immune from the tribulations of regular folk, and those who ignore the rules (be they God’s or the local Health Department’s) pay a price for their willfulness. You all already know this story.

The day ended with a small but out of the ordinary event that, like many Bible stories invites any number of interpretations. Some will see a miracle where others find a perfectly explainable part of the natural order, but anyone who gives it a thought can find a parable. It was the day our blind ewe, Ayşe, led the flock back to the barn.
It was one of those magnificent early October days when everything looked crisp – even the dark clouds that brought a short cloudburst, set as they were against a backdrop of clear blue. The oranges and yellows of fall, seemingly peaking about 10 days too early this year, were vivid in the tree line. In the late afternoon hours, when I do chores, the angle of the descending sun sometimes acts like a spotlight on the scene and casts sharp and rapidly shifting shadows. From the barn where I had deposited handfuls of grain treats in each feed bowl, I could see spot-lit on the horizon the sheep, looking like an assemblage of small boulders, grazing in the tall grass of the north pasture.

I could have gone back to the house and called it a day, knowing that the flock would find its way back to the barn in due course. But I always find it something of a comfort to watch them enjoy the treat and to know that all are well and together. Most days, If they are closer, I just have to shout “hey girls” and if I catch the attention of one of them, especially at feed time, she will begin moving back toward the barn (home base). The others, seeing any one of their number moving in a deliberate and directed way, will fall into line and follow, with the tentative moves eventually transforming into a group charge. The sound of their hooves is reminiscent of the sound we all grew up hearing on television westerns when the posse assembles and gallops off to chase the bad guys.

But the sheep this Friday afternoon were too far away for my voice to carry and it was a perfect moment to enjoy walking the fields. So with the nearly empty feed bucket in hand I went up there. As I approached, I realized that, as often happens, Ayşe was somewhat removed from the rest of the flock. She probably had not even realized yet that she had become separated as she and the others were so busy munching on grass.

This time, fortuitously, Ayşe was perhaps 100 feet closer to me than the others. I called to her and she started coming in my direction. The rest noticed the movement and began to follow along with us. I, and I am sure Ayşe could hear the sound of their collective hooves behind us, almost propelling us along the path they had worn in the pasture heading in the direction of the barn. They did not break into their characteristic run a few hundred feet north of the barn, I suspect because they could see the feed bucket in my hand and were anxious to stay close to the source of the treat.

And so it was that blind Ayşe, who usually trails well behind the rest of the flock in their migrations (see the pic above for Ayse’s usual vantage point), led them all the way back to the barn. She followed the sound of my voice but also the sound of the hoofbeats that stayed close behind her the whole way. I wondered if this is actually what effective leadership is really about, the leader being attentive to the sound of her follower’s footsteps. Or perhaps the lesson in this event is instead that “herd mentality” means the group will follow even a blind leader, one who may or may not in turn be guided by benevolent instincts. (And how nice for me to personify in this parable the benevolent instincts). I leave the other lessons that may be drawn from this event to the reader.

To me the remarkable aspect of the event was my own response. My parents gave me a religious upbringing, sending me to Hebrew school and ensuring I had a proper bar mitzvah in an Orthodox synagogue, but they did so for my mother’s parents’ sake. My parents themselves were resolute atheists and raised us in that belief. I remain true to their teachings today. Yet I found myself ending the day Friday as I began it, thinking “Maybe there is a God.”

WHAT’S NEW THIS WEEK:

Cheese Pumpkins (heritage variety native to Long Island): really a variety of hubbard squash, shaped and colored like pumpkins, great for pies. $1/lb
Escarole: Lovely cool weather green, $3/ bag

I am returning from a brief City excursion today, Sunday. Pickups resume Monday.

A CORRECTION: Two weeks ago I recalled my great uncle Max. I described him as entering the lake at our Catskill bungalow colony saying “L’Chaim, L’Chaim” (To Life, To Life, as fans of Fiddler on the Roof will recall). This was inaccurate and attributable to the elementary state of my Yiddish vocabulary. My dear cousin Albert has informed me that what I heard as “L’Chaim” was in fact the Yiddish expression ” Ah Mechaya,” literally A Pleasure

WHAT’S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK

Escarole $3/bag
Cheese pumpkins, $1/lb
Small White turnips, $3/bunch
Collard greens, $2/bunch
Large black Spanish Radishes, $2 each (or smaller ones in bunches)
Kale, (curly leaf or lacinato) $2/bunch
Swiss Chard, $3/bag
Fresh dug horseradish root, $3/lb.
Sorrel, one gallon bag, $3/bag
Mint, $1/ bunch
Garlic chives (the flat kind), $1/bunch

EGGS: $5/doz

MEATS:

LAMB: fresh back from processing, Legs of lamb and loin chops, $14/lb, boneless lamb shoulder and shoulder steaks, $10/lb, Ground lamb, $7/lb. For the Central Asians among you, lamb tails, $5/lb.

PORK: fresh ham roasts (2 to 3 lbs), $12/lb

CHICKENS: They were quite uniform in size, all just around 6 lbs, a few under. We’ve already had one and the freedom rangers have been what you want them to be, deeply flavorful. They are now frozen. $6/lb. Separately, bags of chicken livers, also $6/lb.

pineapple
FARM PICKUPS:

Email us your order at [email protected], and let us know when you’d like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I’m now here full time, we’re abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we’ll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.