Theme: Paul Muller

The passing of a year seems more of a blur in retrospect that becomes more difficult to recall as I get on in years. We are nearing the end of another full year’s cycle, becoming our 42nd here at this farm between the Capay Hills and the Blue Ridge Mountains. As winter solstice now creeps towards us with delightfully long nights, our farm rhythm shifts. We start work later, finish earlier, sleep longer, sip more tea, and find time to enjoy the clear, starry skies. 

In most Native American societies, months are marked by moons and the natural world’s turning during that month. December brings the “cold winter moon,” and this year, the Blue Moon of early December. As moon names vary among Native peoples, we might give our own names to December moons- like “migrating geese overhead” moon, or “wood fire” moon, or “time to read, sing, and rest a bit” moon, or even “banker’s hours” moon. This December moon is indeed our time to gather in the strength to do it all over again- the “mustering strength” moon. 

Solstice comes with a bit of sadness though, knowing that with its turn, days begin again to lengthen, stirring renewed enthusiasm for planting, rousing the ideas sown in December’s long dark nights by making plans for action. It is as inescapable as the urges of bees to sunlight driving the quest for pollen and nectar – take flight, feed the brood, plant and harvest, a new tug on a farmer’s spirit is coming… Yet now, when  it comes to pure time needed to regenerate ourselves, we are finding that we need a couple of Decembers. 

During these dark long nights, we have, for years, celebrated solstice with a party. There is a potluck for the neighborhood, singing to fill souls with songs remembered and sung together. We dabble in the folk wisdom of Wassail as revelers, surrounding our fruit trees or vines in a cold dark night with noise making tools (pots and pans, horns or hoots) to remind our trees not to sleep too deeply and to awaken together in January to begin another fruitful year. (Or maybe it is just fun to raise cacophony for a moment on the longest night of the year.) 

Looking back, 2025 may be one of the most benign and wonderful years of any in the past 42 here. The combination of gentle well-spaced rains, mild temperatures, fruitfulness, a good plan, and a dedicated crew helped to make one of our best years ever. Crops were generally beautiful- we were cared for once again by this generous land.  The native people who lived here long before we arrived knew the good fortune of this place. Perhaps understanding clearly that this year’s fullness may be followed by challenges and scarcity. It is remarkable how few acorns the oaks held this year, perhaps portending a season of hunger for those who lived with the bounty or limitations of place. So for this year, it seems that our guardian angels smiled upon us and blessed us again with abundance.