By Faatma Mehrmanesh, DeLaney Community Farm Operations Coordinator
Things we learned in the year of the five hundred year flood:
We grew food! We built new bridges, we practiced patience, we learned about ourselves and how to care for one another in crisis, we survived, we made mistakes, we fixed things, we found gifts in unlikely places, we re-learned the value of community and we give reverence and praise to Mother Nature.
Be careful what you wish for (you just might get it).
People are unconditionally kind.
Everything on the farm is a metaphor for life.
You get what you get and you don’t have a fit.
Abundance has very little (absolutely nothing) to do with control.
Early in the season we were so excited to get started early! As many Colorado natives or long time residents know, there is no “norm” in our seasons. Sometimes you get spring rain, sometimes you get spring snow, but we were ill prepared for a mild winter and a very late frost. It’s hard to be prepared in a constant state of unpredictability! The late frost and then quick warm up put some nasty cracks in our main water line, pushing back our start date for planting.
And then, rain it did. We had a nice wet season throughout and the plants (and weeds) were loving it! Even though we were battling weeds and spent most of the season catching up to the initial setbacks, the food was abundant. We covered everything up with floating row cover to keep those pesky flea beetles at bay and were proud of ourselves. Some things were late and some things were missing but what we had was beautiful and nourishing us.
At one point in the season I just decided it would be my personal job to harvest the kale because it could be a painstaking task to cut back and bunch 140 bunches at 15 leaves a bunch of kale first thing on a Monday morning. There were so many weeds and so many mosquitos and there was So. Much. Kale. The food that we planted on purpose was thriving… in spite of our need for perfect neat rows. Our aesthetic was challenged by bindweed, thistle, purslane, amaranth and a lovely little plant that we decided to call “the Devil” (Buffalo Burr). We had to lean into the reality that in spite of the seeming visual chaos, the plants we cared for were thriving and abundant and it all seemed beyond our control.
and then…
When the flash flood warnings were showing up, we like many, imagined the same hard, quick and gone rains that we get a lot. Our farm sits in a little valley of sorts where two creeks meet and when footage of flooding in Aurora was being shown online and on the news, panic set in. I called everyone and told them to stay home while it was raining and we all showed up for work Friday morning to assess the damage. Almost all of the fields had standing water in them and more rain was expected. We walked the fields, some of us holding back tears and all of us telling each other that it could be worse. Rain, rain, rain and more rain. I sat at home in a nail biting state of anxiety. All our Saturday events were cancelled and I headed out to do another assessment. Hail. Hail plus floods equals bad news. Sad news. Knowing then it was time to come together to save what we could and call it a wrap, we asked for help. Shareholders, staff, friends of DUG, and people unrelated to DUG and DeLaney until then, came out to help us pull food out of the fields that was in danger of rotting. It was muddy, overwhelming and exhausting and I was in awe of everyone’s willingness to help in any way they could. A lot was lost and a lot was saved… and even though we had a shortened 16 weeks of harvest instead of our usual 18 weeks plus an additional gleaning week, our current estimations show that we grew more than 28,000 pounds of food.
Beyond the food, community and crisis taught us all a lot. Farmers from everywhere called, emailed and checked in with one another to see how they could help. Everyone sent their volunteers to us. As a team on the farm we cared for each other, allowed ourselves to feel, made sure we rested and ate, thought a lot about all of the farms and homes that were ravaged and considered ourselves lucky and grateful. The phrase “When it rains, it pours” will never be used lightly ever again. The folks who work for Aurora Parks and Open Space are our heroes. We are lucky to be able to do it again next year. Our shareholder members are our heroes. Our community partner organizations are our heroes.
It’s October now and we are still picking and shucking Black Turtle Beans in the mud (please come join us!) while simultaneously putting the farm to bed (in the mud). The season always goes by too fast and at the same I think we’re all ready to go inside. As always at this time of year, I’m ready to tackle the stack of books waiting for me, write a couple dozen thank you cards, oversleep on the weekends and reflect on how to be a better farmer next season.
Always learning and giving thanks,
Faatma
