It's a tricky thing, coming up with a name for a farm, or any name that you think might be around for a while. How did we choose Woodsong?
We live in a place surrounded by dark, dense forest. The forest has not been cared for. It was probably clear cut 10 years ago, and now it is populated by thick scrubby trees and no under story to speak of. Deer love it here, and coincidentally so do ticks.
It's not the loveliest wood to behold. It's wild, dark, and full of nasties, such as the aforementioned ticks. Sometimes the world feels like that to me. Dark, wild, full of nasties....
And then, if I wake up early enough and listen sometime in early Spring, I hear it. Amidst the wild. Piercing the darkness. Rising with the dawn, a song.
Despite the crazy world we live in, there is beauty here that would pierce your heart and break it, if you would but listen. Can you hear it?
It's the woodsong.
There is beauty and joy and goodness to be found. There are praises to be sung, first thing as the sun rises, and again as the sun sets, just like the wood thrush.
And for our farm,
May it be like the wood thrush. A song in the chaos, a light in the darkness, doing right when it's a whole lot easier to just do what's easy or what pays. To remember that there is so much goodness and beauty and joy to be found. To have thankful hearts. May we be a farm that produces this goodness and shares it with others.
May our bounty nourish your bodies. And may your hearts be blessed by the joy found in the wood thrush's song.