A Reflection on Time

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posted on

October 28, 2025

Does anyone feel like they blinked and the summer was over?

More than once this season I joked with our stewards (our 'stewards' are our summer intern program team-members, here with us for just 5 months) that the summer is like a ball rolling down a hill - it starts off slowly but quickly gains speed the further it travels.

Our summer farming "season" runs from May 1st to October 1st each year.

I remember a few years ago, when I was a steward, the month of May felt long. Not because I didn't enjoy it, but because everything was new.

Once we hit June, my team and I had a broader knowledge base and a greater sense of routine. Not surprisingly, June went by much more quickly.

As I chatted with our crew about this past summer, many of them agreed that each successive month (of their five months here) seemed to go by more quickly than the last!

What is it about the human condition that makes us feel like time goes by slowly or quickly? We don't gain or lose a minute regardless of how we feel.

Everyone has the same amount of time in their day....but how we choose to spend it differs widely.

This season, the stewards spent time moving broilers, tending to pigs, processing hundreds of chickens, building structures, making hay, and working with cows - just to name a few things!

As I reflect on our summer season, I am challenged by this thought: "Am I putting my time where my values are?"

Are we as a society rushing around trying to keep on top of things that feel urgent yet neglecting the important things - the things that really matter to us?

This is no easy paradigm shift. Often, it takes a series of painful "no's" (to things that are often good) so we can say "yes" to things that are better.

As the days get shorter and nature invites us to slow down, let's take an inventory of where we are spending our time; it truly is our most valuable resource.

- Melissa

Speaking the Unspeakable

All of us encounter taboo topics, going where angels fear to tread, and speaking the unspeakable. These cliches capture the dialogue land mines we tend to avoid because most of us have a bias toward self-preservation. Today, I'm going into that space because we've had a flurry of agriculture activity in the news. From President Trump's executive order in favor of regenerative agriculture to the opposite elevating the herbicide glyphosate to national security status to last week's decision to import below-market value lean ground beef product to then musing about reducing regulations on farmers processing their animals, we've seen all sorts of perceptions bandied about. Without getting into the politics of any of these things, here is the unspeakable truth: bad farming exists and good farming exists. There, I said it. The conventional cultural perspective is that farmers are farmers and farming is farming. It's an "all for one," and "one for all" Disney idea that all farming and farmers are in this together. To be fully transparent, as recently as a couple of months ago I used the term "bad farmers" and "good farmers." An astute and charitable friend pulled me aside to critique those phrases and suggest I only use "good farming" and "bad farming" in order to honor to not bag people. Fair enough. I'm now using only "bad farming" and "good farming." The reason this matters is because for decades now, nearly all government subsidies, grants, insurance, and incentives have gone to bad farming. This is why, for all the billions of annual federal expenditures, farms keep going downhill economically, ecologically, and emotionally. Of all the controversial things I've said about farming, by far and away the one that receives the most pushback is when I say bad farming exists. The conventional industrial complex hates the idea. Stink up the neighborhood? "We're just farmers." Pollute the groundwater? "We're just farmers." Dead zone the size of Rhode Island in the Gulf of Mexico due to chemical runoff in the Mississippi? "We're just farmers." With no distinction allowed in the discussion, farming that destroys soil, pollutes the water, desertifies the landscape, produces pathogen-laden food, and disrespects animal behavior gets to ride the emotional equity coat-tails of good farming. As a culture, we should defund bad farming, both publicly and privately. Farm protocols that destroy pollinators, view wildlife as inherently detrimental, and care not a whit about earthworm health are absolutely a national liability whether anyone wants to acknowledge it or not. What are the traits of good farming? Here are some: 1. Build healthy soil. 2. Honor and respect biology, both plants and animals. 3. Prohibit poisons. 4. Increase pollinators. 5. Build immunological function. 6. Increase landscape hydration. 7. Smell good. 8. Look beautiful. 9. Operated by happy people. 10. Interact positively with neighbors. These are principles we try to honor every day here at Polyface, and your patronage enables us to continue pursuing these objectives. The fact that our farm has a 24/7/365 open door policy for anyone to come at anytime from anywhere to see anything unannounced confirms a transparency persona that leads to trust. If you haven't taken us up on this visit invitation, please do. When you look at the above list and think about what most people think about a farm environment, you won't find a single one of those items at a conventional chemical industrial outfit. That's sad but it's also tragic. It matters how a farm operates. It matters how animals get treated. It matters whether the farmer is happy or frustrated. Farming protocols determine these elements; hence, bad farming and good farming. The term regenerative farming is long and hard and not comprehensive. Why don't we just change the verbiage and call it good farming? I'm not embarrassed or afraid to say I practice good farming. And you should not be afraid to say you patronize good farming. Our farm family is indeed in this together, and it's all about good farming, good food. Don't apologize for saying you buy food from good farming instead of bad farming. Talk about a conversation starter. Boy howdy. That'll turn some heads. But you might just educate someone. Speaking the unspeakable is often the first step to waking folks up who are asleep at the wheel. Look in your refrigerator. Look in the pantry. What items come from good farming and which ones come from bad farming? Go ahead; make the distinction. And dare bad farming to defend itself. Speaking the unspeakable often leads to someone trying to defend the indefensible. Thank you for being the change we all want to see.

A Reflection on Time

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