Endless Summer

Marked by the solstice, by June 21st, by the full strawberry moon,

or by the burst of the first ripe cherry tomato of the season,

warmed by the sun, sweet, a little tannic, familiar

or the sensory symphony in the garden: purple hues and olfactory arrangements

of lavender and anise, wild bergamot and maypop blooms

hung heavy in the humid air, surrounded by buzzing bumble bees

or the weather app on your phone

threatening the first triple degree day: Friday July 3, 2026

It is officially summer in New Jersey.

Stewarding the land has a way of shaping time a bit differently than any other type of work I have ever done. It involves working with the past, the present, and the future all at once in communion with the elements. I am constantly aware of how slow and fast it is moving all at the same time, and in this way, this work brings me into a deeper awareness of the way that life moves, acutely aware of how simultaneously stagnant and fleeting it all can feel. That being said, it is finally.. or suddenly, July! The dog days of summer are upon us, the spirit of the endless summer, July always feels like it lasts forever, and yet, it will be gone before we know it (cue The Summer Wind by Frank Sinatra.. no not yet!!!)... So let us bask, for we will be here for longer and shorter than we could ever understand, and it is imperative that we relish in the humble divinity of a New Jersey summer as often as we can in this life.

As June fades in the rear view, we say goodbye to strawberries, perfumey elderflower blooms (only to make way for juicy elderberries to take their place), and our roses will start to taper off for a while; but in the herbal and floral world of the farm, we’re saying hello to pretty much everybody else! It was a late season this year for a lot of our perennial herbs, possibly due to drought conditions and that late frost we had, and I have noticed many of them took a couple of extra weeks to mature than in seasons passed. We are just now seeing lots of action in the herb gardens, delightfully watching pollinators dance from flower to flower, drinking up nectar and carrying pollen from bloom to bloom!

Many of our herbs are at their peak, and we are starting to bulk harvest them for drying and processing. The herbal products that we create are truly a labor of love that take months of careful attention, from seed to harvest to process and eventually to market. Some herbs get dehydrated for teas, seasoning blends, and infused oils, while some are processed fresh for tinctures, vinegars, and distillations. We are currently harvesting lavender, chamomile, and yarrow, you can imagine how lovely it smells! Or better yet, you can join us for one of our herbal garden walks this summer and smell for yourself! Another fleeting treasure of summer for me is the opportunity to lead community members and visitors through the herbal garden, meeting plants and learning about herbs, ecology, and land stewardship. It is magnificent to watch the garden change week to week: what's blooming, what’s fading, which insects and wildlife are around. This is an example of the way that working with the land bends your perception and brings you into awareness. In a world of screens where our attention is currency, I am grateful to spare some of mine on the changing landscapes that nourish me and my community, in more ways than one.

Rows of cut flowers are interplanted into our veggie fields. This is a great way to increase biodiversity in the field and encourage pollination and beneficial insects while also helping to deter certain pests (at least somewhat). Last week was kind of the first true week of flower harvest, where we were able to get a proper haul of snapdragons, zinnias, rudbeckia, and cosmos! Seeing the fields illuminated with color is beautiful. We spend so much time in the winter strategically planning and mapping out this moment right now. And it all rolls together when you see the colors of that first row of flowers, taste that first tomato, smell that first chamomile flower, break open that first watermelon and share it with dirty hands on a hot day in late July. Through all of the work it takes to maintain these operations, in all of the hustle and bustle, I am still in awe at the experience of planting a tiny seed that becomes something else; something beautiful, something deeply nourishing, something that connects us to place and to each other. This is the invitation for July on the farm. To be present with the wonder of the seed, to reflect on the cycles around us and within us, and to celebrate the fleeting moment even though it will soon be gone. 

Yes and to gobble up lots of summer tomatoes, cucumbers, and melons, get a little too much sun and fill your house with flowers only to change them out next week baby, you deserve the moment, you are the seed! Blessings and health in the spirit of endless summer.

-Leah