June, Through a Farmer's Eyes

By Kristin Burns

Moving out of May means transitioning from the careful pacing of spring planting into the high-stakes, fast-moving rhythm of summer field production. The days are stretching out, the sun warms the soil, and every corner of the farm is bursting with life.

Life at Reed’s Farm is beautifully interconnected. The farm awakens to the hum of tractors heading out to turn compost, the low cadence of morning chatter, and a fine mist bringing our seedlings into gentle attunement. With flocks of geese quietly observing and a young rooster echoing his half-found voice across the fields, the day begins. As the greenhouse doors slide open and the sides roll up, the morning birdsong, fresh dew, and sweet scent in the air deliver the beginning reminders: June is here.

To be completely candid, June is the month where the farm tries to run away from you if you let it. The weeds grow overnight, the greenhouse crops threaten to bolt at the first 90-degree day, and the weather keeps us constantly on our toes. It is a time of hyper-vigilance-checking irrigation lines, monitoring for pests by hand, occasionally chasing off a hungry but cute groundhog (veggiehog), and ensuring our young crops have the exact nutrients they need to make it to your plate.

June forces us to be present. She pulls us into the harvest, still tired from the days before, insistent that we pour our best electrolyte concoctions to handle her heat and remain steady through the day. She’s messy, alive, abundant, and yet fleeting all at once.

It is also the most hopeful time of the year. Seeing the direct-seeded rows line up straight and full, watching our compost systems nourish the soil, retain moisture, and hold back weed pressure-and knowing this food is heading straight to our local community-makes every June day worth it. When you pick up a bag of our salad mix, a bunch of radishes, or some fresh field herbs this month, know that a ton of love, sore muscles, and collective crew purpose went into growing it.

The true magic happens because of the hands that show up out here every single day. Farming is a team sport, and heading into June requires a unique blend of endurance, humor, and deep care for the land. Watching everyone sync up into a steady rhythm of weeding, trellising, and morning harvesting is one of the most rewarding views. There is a shared camaraderie when you are working side-by-side in the dirt-whether it is 90 degrees and sunny or a downpouring rain-that keeps our ethos alive and well.

Right now, the farm tells a story of seasonal change where the roots of spring are anchoring the very first sprouts of summer. We are still actively harvesting crisp, cold-hardy greens that love the morning dew, but the focus has officially shifted to the heavy yields of summer.

• The Current Harvest: We are busy bringing in beautiful Swiss chard, kale, crisp lettuce mixes, bok choy, radishes, carrots, snow peas, and purple-top turnips.

  
  

• Upcoming Produce: In the coming weeks, you can look forward to summer staples like cucumbers, basil, beans, and, of course, Jersey tomatoes along with most of our current crops.

  
  

Our daily rhythm revolves entirely around the seasons, with every crew member hard at work in their craft. No matter the day, we are joined by friendly volunteers, familiar faces, and students who brighten our work through their willingness to steward the land and learn the ways of nature alongside us.

Growing vegetables at Reed’s Farm is deeply personal to me because it is my daily practice of radical care and connection. In a world that often prioritizes convenience and blind outsourcing, putting my hands into the soil every morning is my quiet act of rebellion against an altered food system that I did not consent to. It is a conscious choice to slow down and honor the ancient, steady rhythms of the seasons rather than chasing the frantic pace of modern life.

Every time my hand touches the soil I remember the innocence of life. One of the most basic yet complex things connects my mind to memories of being a little girl gardening and reminders that I've been doing this for what feels like lifetimes. Each time unearths a deeper understanding and purpose of stewardship, feeding the complex underground ecosystem of microbes and fungi that underpins all life, allowing our fields to become a thriving, pesticide-free web where insects, birds, and crops co-exist in a delicate equilibrium.

The health of our community is completely inseparable from the health of our soil. Reed’s Farm stands as our pushback against a fast-paced world built around consumption and disposal. Stepping away from harmful chemicals and anchoring ourselves to the essence of the earth is our way of drawing a line in the sand-proving that we can feed our neighbors abundantly like we once did while actively restoring and preserving the vitality of this land.

Our true harvest is creating a cohesive space for nature to be herself, providing for our local community while completely refraining from pesticides and harmful chemicals. After all, those few holes in your leaves are just reminders that nature is in balance.

Farming asks for patience, observation, adaptability, and trust in the land every single day. We are preserving this land for agriculture forever-ensuring that the healing power of nature remains accessible for generations to come.