Fragile Lives

There are little lives beginning everywhere on the farm- watermelons the size of cherries, only a hint of what they will be in just a few weeks, tomatoes that are turning from shades of green to yellow and orange overnight, cucumbers that seem to be growing faster than we can pick them. These little lives are fragile, and they are the ones we work endlessly to save, cultivating and weeding the beds, making sure they have just the right conditions to grow.

There are other little lives on the farm too though, lives that we sometimes overlook along the way. I think those are the ones that showed up today, to say “remember me?” just in case we had forgotten. This morning we found a baby toad in an empty bed. The farmer was shaping the rows with the tractor and we shouted at him to stop so we could chase after the toad to move him to the safety of the blackberry bushes near the pond.

In the afternoon the workshift came to weed sweet potatoes. While the seven of us worked in the beds, a black and white bird sat in between two rows, flapping her wings and screeching loudly. The closer we got to her the more she flapped and screeched, but she wouldn’t fly away. Behind her were three speckled eggs, nestled between two potato plants.

I wanted to tell her that we saw her eggs, that we were not going to hurt them, but she was frustrated and scared. We stayed as far away as we could, but like the mother bird, I too worried about her babies. I worried about what would happen days from now, if one of us, in an effort not to step on potatoes, forgot about the other fragile lives on the farm.

Before I left the sweet potatoes today, I marked the spot near the nest by laying a large stick on the ground. Soon I know the stick will mark, not three little eggs, but three baby birds, and a brave mother who will feed them worms and teach them to fly.

I hope when that day comes, the tomatoes are red and the watermelons are round and ripe. I also hope that on that day, I’ll still be thinking about the other little lives, and how they are just as important to the farm as the crops. But just in case I forget, I’ll look out for little birds flying over the sweet potatoes. That way, I can always have something to help me remember.