Is there a word that describes the growth of a farmer while waiting for plants to grow? Are there words for the colors that appear during golden hour? Are there words for sowing seeds and hoping and then finally seeing them sprout up? Are there words for watching a plant’s demise and then suddenly seeing them flourish? Is there a word to describe the connection we all have with our own lands? Because it takes more composure than excitement, it takes too much feeling to be just a harvest, it takes too much sadness to be happiness, too much work to be lighthearted, too much care to be a surprise, too immersed to be just a job. Farming, y’all. It sure is a rollercoaster. Sometimes when I’m in the field alone, I think too much. I think about the words that don’t exist to describe our lives, our ups and downs, the time that passes and slows down simultaneously, feeling defeated but also hopeful and ready to work, the lack of connection between feelings and vocabulary boggle me. I just wish there was a way to actually describe the first moments in a new bed, seeing the first weed seed sprouts, imagining the future growth while planting baby plants, the first spot of a radish out of the ground, the first flower bobbing its head, the first leaf you notice is big enough to bunch, the first time you actually stop and see the big picture, the first step into a tomato field when you realize you can no longer see their neighbors- a beautiful and sad and joyous and heartbreaking and fulfilling and tired and optimistic while also being rational word- is there a word for that? I find solace in the cerebral circling I do in the fields as the sun sets. After all, we became farmers because we think too much, work too much, observe too much. There’s no better meditation.