Cold, crisp, clear, quiet—the enormous stillness of winter on the farm. People who think life in the country is quiet have never lived on a farm. Gone in winter are the sounds of a tractor rumbling by, day after day pulling plows, tillers, mulch layers, and planters. Gone are the sounds of delivery trucks bringing various fuels, parts for machinery built long ago, seeds, seeds, seeds, and more seeds, soil mixes and flats for transplants, baskets, containers, and tools of the trade. Gone is the constant noise of trucks and tractors carrying the people who work on the farm. Missing are the voices as the produce is picked, pulled, cut, washed, and stored for market. Voices, honed by years on the farm, that carry their message without the use of radios or cell phones. Good strong lungs are our communication tools.

The quiet in the winter evening is the time for lists. There are never-ending lists of things to do, fix, and buy. We make lists of equipment, well used during the season, that needs repairs. We make lists of equipment that just gave up—that will not be coaxed for another year’s service—and that needs to be replaced. There are lists of farm chores that never get done during the season and that might be done only in the quiet pace of winter. There are lists of household tasks that are tackled only in the slower days of winter. We make lists for nursery stock orders and seed orders. Hours are spent reading, studying, and dreaming over seed catalogs. Decisions made now as to when, where, and what to plant will affect all of next season. Choices made now determine how many employees will be needed next year, how much capital will be needed to start the season, and how much profit is possible for the farm operation. If too much is planted, you can lose most of your crops due to lack of management and insufficient labor. If too little is planted, there is inadequate cash flow to continue the farming operation. There is a very fine line between success and failure for vegetable farmers. Choices made concerning orchard operations—more trees, fewer trees—affect production in three to five years. And pruning and trimming decisions affect next year’s crop.

Winter is a season of contemplation. It is a chance to revisit seasons past, a chance to enjoy the beauty that surrounds you. An afternoon walk takes you through crisp air. Leaves crunch as they fall. Staring at freshly plowed earth, you remember what has been there before and you imagine what will be there next. Winter is the time to reevaluate the life choices we make. Farming is a rewarding occupation on many levels, though very rarely economically rewarding. In order to maintain the farm and a rural lifestyle, most small family farmers live simply, without many of the modern capital goods. And the quiet beauty of winter reaffirms the farmer’s decision to stay on the land.

Cold, crisp, clear, quiet—the first snow of the season blankets the earth. Clean and white, spreading across the landscape until the scene becomes surreal. Failures of the past year are forgotten. Even memories of successes are slowly fading away. Work stops. The land is still. Like a parent with a newborn, the farmer and the land sleep.

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