Eclipse!

I was too busy screaming with joy to effectively use my camera, but a guest at our farm took this fabulous photo of totality. Thanks Jim Colton for sharing it!

Our hearts were filled with so much joy this weekend, and our farm was filled with so many old and new friends. Many months ago now, my parents (who live next-door to us) and I both separately coincidentally over the same weekend invited lots of far-flung friends to camp at the farm. Once we realized the coincidence, we decided to organize our efforts and turn the weekend into an unforgettable event.

And it was. On so many levels, this weekend was truly amazing. For one thing: the company. We aimed our invitations at long-time friends who lived outside of totality (we figured our local friends could enjoy from home and would likely be offering the same invitations to others). More people than we imagined took us up on our offer, and starting on Thursday and continuing until Sunday afternoon, old friends from many parts of our lives began arriving with their tents and food to share in tow.

For me, this would have been enough. I kept marveling at the wonderful sight of so many beloveds in one place: there were many long-time friends of my parents — adults who were like surrogate aunties and uncles as I grew up far away from my own extended family. A college friend we met our freshman year at WWU (19 years ago now! Wow!). Casey’s best friend from high school and his family. A long-time pen pal of mine who moved to Oregon a couple of years ago with her family. Some of our first good friends in McMinnville who now live in Eugene. Several friends we met long ago at Holden Village. The list went on and on. There was something incredibly sweet to me about seeing all these connections overlap and to see folks make new connections and grow in affection over the experience.

We took friends to the river to swim. One guest pulled out a chess board and kids gathered round to watch games being played. The kids played with hula hoops and pushed each other on our rope swings.

We set up tables in my parents’ carport and organized two big meals: a dinner feast on Sunday night featuring turkeys my mom raised and lots of vegetables from the farm (as well as many dishes people brought to share). After dinner, everyone pitched in to clean up the meal. And then we gathered around a campfire to sing Holden Evening Prayer while my friend Molly accompanied us on the flute. Then we sang goofy camp songs, and I made up new eclipse-related lyrics to “She’ll be coming round the mountain”: “We’ll kill all the turkeys when they come …” “They’ll all get stuck in traffic when they leave …” and so on. The stars came out while we were gathered, and we all marveled at how well we could see them, absent city lights and summer dust. It was a very clear night, boding well for the next morning.

I’m not sure how well folks slept in their tents that night. I was in my own cozy bed but still found it hard to fall asleep, what with my mind full of images from the day and excitement for the coming eclipse!

The next morning we all shared another feast of simple breakfast foods and then congregated in our field to watch the main show in the perfectly clear blue Oregon sky. I kept marveling at how wonderful it was that people all across the country were gathering together with enthusiasm to watch an astronomical event. I loved that it wasn’t a sporting event or election that would have losers — nor was it an overly commercialized holiday with lots of things to buy. Instead, we were gathering to watch the sky — to watch a cosmic dance between the sun and the moon and experience the sublime awe of that moment when they overlap. So cool.

Getting ready for the dance!

As the eclipse began, everyone chattered away: “It’s begun!” someone shouted. People watched and then talked. Some stayed in their chairs the whole time; others ran around to talk to friends or to observe different phenomena as they unfolded. We gathered colanders of all kinds to watch as the round shadows revealed the crescent sun. We noticed as shadows of all kinds grew less distinct. We commented on the growing chill in the air (which had been almost growing too warm before the eclipse began). The light grew darker in a way I’d never seen before — a totally unique quality of light unlike dawn or dusk. A friend poured some champagne. We ate some chocolate.

Checking for crescent shaped shadows as the light grew dimmer

And, then it was time. The sun was disappearing quickly. We looked to the west to watch the impending shadow and suddenly it was on us! The world grew darker, darker, darker, and people were shouting with ecstasy on all sides. I turned around and finally saw it: the dark moon with the corona of the sun flowing out from behind! The sky above us was dark, but I looked to the horizons and saw light all around us, making a sort of 360° sunset. It was too beautiful. It was truly awesome, in the original sense of the word: overwhelmingly humbling in its beauty and grandness. How small are we? And yet, here we are, a part of this breathtakingly gorgeous world. It was a moment of intense connection with everything.

And, then … it was gone. The light returned so quickly, and we were all left gasping for breath, trying to make sense of what we’d just shared and to hold on to memories of an incredibly fleeting powerful experience.

I pictured that shadow continuing to move eastward across the country and imagined a giant wave of people cheering and shouting, like at a sporting event but ever so much bigger. A wave across the whole nation, connecting us all. What a uniting moment in a country that has felt like it’s struggled to find connection and unity in the last year.

Very quickly, guests began to leave, giving hugs and offering gratitude on their way. They knew there’d be traffic (and there was! Even on our quiet Wallace Rd!), but it was time for people to head home. Some folks lingered to help clean up. Some stayed long enough for another visit to the river, where we encountered two other large groups of people who’d been in the area to watch the eclipse too. It was the most people I’d ever seen at our river spot before, and I watched everyone swim and play with such love in my heart. Everyone looked so joyful and relaxed and happy, which had been the case at our camping event too. It was the purest joy I feel like I’ve seen in a crowd setting since well before last year’s election. I decided that the human smile is possibly the most brilliant sight in the universe, after all.

And now, the final guests are gone. The tables we borrowed from a neighbor have been returned. The sky is back to being a mix of blue and gray cloud cover. Casey spent the day harvesting, and we enjoyed our Wednesday summer tradition of swimming at the river — one of our last days for this year. It suddenly feels like summer is really winding down, especially now that the big event is behind us.

But I feel more ready for fall now. I feel uplifted by this shared event and am breathing deeper with the universe’s reminders: I am small. All of this shall pass. Love is what matters.

And fall brings its own beauty and fun. Satisfying harvests. The return to book learning (we start “school” in our house on Monday). Golden light. More occasions to see friends and family.

Luminous Heart

Speaking of which, we’d like to invite you out to the farm for a fall event. We’ve scheduled our Fall Open House, so put this date on your calendars: Saturday, October 14, 2-4 pm. We’re trying something a little different this year by hosting folks earlier in October than usual (aiming for better weather than last year). We’ll have live music from the wonderful local acoustic duo, Luminous Heart, as well as an apple variety tasting and farm tours. Every one who visits will get a large pie pumpkin, suitable for carving or eating! I’ll provide more details (including directions to the farm) in a future newsletter. We hope you will join us!!!! We can’t promise you a cosmic dance, but we can promise good company and good food — the two very things that inspired this farm dream of ours so many years ago.

I very much hope that each of you had your own wonderful eclipse experience this week, whether it was just with your beloved family, a few friends, or even in a thoughtful moment of silence by yourself. May that awesome sight have filled your heart with courage for living life with intention, spirit, and love. We’d love to hear your stories at pick-up! Because, well, it was just so cool that we want to keep talking about it!

Enjoy this week’s vegetables!

Your farmers, Katie & Casey Kulla

~ ~ ~

Meet this week’s vegetables:

• Plums
• Apples
• Spaghetti squash — If you haven’t already noticed signs of fall’s coming, here is one for you: the first of our winter squash! Spaghetti squash has become a favorite staple around our house in recent years. We cut it in half lengthwise and bake it cut-side up (drizzled with olive oil) until the flesh is soft all the way through and easy to “fork” out into shredded squash. We use it as a base for all kinds of dishes.
• Cantaloupe
• Sweet corn
• Sweet peppers
• Green peppers
• Tomatoes
• Eggplant
• Salad mix
• Carrots
• Zucchini
• Garlic