| As one reviewer noted, Estersohn’s volume is not just “a beautifully shot coffee table book of idyllic rural landscapes, dreamy country interiors, and arresting portraits.” It is also “a love letter to what he calls ‘the new generation of independent farmers,’ both generally and specifically, in 35 ways, one for each of his subjects.” The book celebrates as well, in the words of another reviewer “the magnificence of this region that’s captivated artists, writers, and visitors for centuries.”This little farm is quite out of its league in the company of most of the featured agriculturalists. I can attribute our inclusion mostly to Estersohn having brought his son, Elio, over for a farm tour, combining produce shopping and entertainment, when he first moved to the area back in 2010. But I understand, too, that he wanted to portray farms in all stages of the life cycle and of every origin. Not just hip idealistic young visionaries starting from scratch, but also those carrying on an agriculture heritage they grew up with and those, like me, who somehow muddled into farming. I started as a part time dilettante but ultimately found myself feeling like a vital organ in a living body from which I cannot imagine disengaging.I have long likened the family farm to a kind of artwork, in which each farmer paints a very individual tableau. “Quirky,” in the words of one of the book’s reviewers. But from browsing some of the profiles in Back to the Land I came away with another perspective. Take Philip Orchard in Claverack, continuously farmed by 16 generations of the same family (I found Leila Philip’s book, A Family Place, tracing her family’s history on the farm, an inspiring read). Or consider Chaseholm Farms, a dairy operation in Pine Plains now being run by a third generation of its family. (Their cheeses have inspired me in an entirely different way). Their profiles make clear that a farm is less like a painting, memorialized on canvas, and more like performance art or a jazz classic. There is constant reinvention, as each generation brings a new philosophy, vision, education, sensibility and style to meet the challenges of the day. Consistent themes with dramatic improvisations.Reading my own profile in the context of some of these others made me realize that I could now be considered a second-generation farmer. My later partner, Peter, and I established Turkana Farms as a melding of our very different visions (Roman villa and hippie commune). That farm lost its footing, its full- time supervisor, and its primary motivating engine with Peter’s sudden death in 2018. I floundered for several years, trying to find a manageable way forward.It took a pandemic to make me realize I could work and live here full time (thank you, COVID). But what it really took to get my bearings was to re-establish a “family” at the heart of this family farm. With Eric now as my partner, and with a core group of friends (especially Steve, Paul, and Macho Matt) regularly pitching in, there’s been since last year a new energy; a second iteration of Turkana Farms taking shape.Some products are returning, others getting new emphasis. The look is changing. At Eric’s urging, we resumed raising our signature product, heritage breed turkeys, last year. Last week Eric cleared the overrun-by-weeds raspberry patch so we could determine where canes had disappeared, and this weekend I planted 30 new raspberry primocanes where the original plantings had disappeared.Not all the changes are deliberately planned. This weekend, Eric, in his passion for order, decided to clear a chaotic jumble of growth and farm detritus behind the woodshed. He removed as nuisance plants some bushes that had been partly smothered by vines and partly poisoned by a poorly placed black walnut tree. “Oh no,” I groaned when I saw the uprooted bushes, “those are currants!” We took the opportunity, though, to transplant them from that poor location to line the driveway, where, if they take, they have a better chance of producing.Nor are all the changes successful. Last year I decided to establish a new rhubarb patch along the banks of the stream running through the former pig pasture. On the assumption that everything transplants better in the fall, I moved about 15 rhubarb roots there. Only afterwards did I read that rhubarb is best divided and transplanted very early in the spring. Last fall’s plants never had the chance to establish themselves and they disappeared. The 35 starts I divided off early this spring are flourishing, though, and we will begin harvesting them next year.If the sheep were to read to the end of the Turkana Farms chapter in Back to the Land, they would find an impressive two-page color portrait of the entire herd, and recognize that there is always a second chance, another act. For sheep, and even for farmers of advanced age. |
Doodle recently the center of Macho Matt’s affection, Photo by Brian Galletly
Spotlight and Insight in a coffee table bookThis month, Doodle’s image began to reach a far wider audience. A photo of me hugging a hay-covered four month old Doodle leads off the Turkana Farms chapter of Pieter Estersohn’s spectacular new book, “Back to the Land: A New Way of Life in the Country: Foraging, Cheesemaking, Beekeeping, Syrup Tapping, Beer Brewing, Orchard Tending, Vegetable Gardening, and Ecological Farming in the Hudson River Valley”, published by Rizzoli Press.
Rhubarb takes root in the pig pasture Photo by Mark Scherzer
FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you’d like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I’m now here full time, we’re abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we’ll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.
HEAR OUR SHOWIf you’d enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation’s smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 “The Voice of Berkshire School” or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the “On Demand” section. FM 91.7 “The Voice of Berkshire School”can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.
FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/
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