On grey days, and the light returning

Field Notes Newsletter | 12.26.25

There hasn’t been much brightness to speak of around the farm lately.
Just layers of grey. Sky into fog, fog into fields. The kind of winter where everything feels muted and damp and unfinished.

But there are signs, if you slow down enough to notice them.

The soil is heavy and dark right now, holding water and resting. The perennial beds have disappeared almost entirely, but the crowns are there, doing their quiet work underground. The trees look bare, but their buds are already set. Even on the shortest, greyest, wettest days, something is always preparing.

This time of year in the pacific northwest asks a lot of patience.

Outside the farm gates, this year has felt heavy in other ways. Weather events that were once considered rare now feel routine. Farmers everywhere are navigating uncertainty — from climate to costs to labor to land — yet still showing up, still planting, still feeding their communities. Some days it feels like holding steady is the work.

And yet, we keep seeing people do exactly that.

We’ve watched neighbors show up with boots and shovels when the ground was too wet and the task too big. Vendors, couples, fellow farmers, friends, and family checking in — not with grand gestures, but with consistency. With presence. With care.

That kind of care matters more than ever.

This year reminded us that resilience doesn’t always look like growth. Sometimes it looks like repair. Sometimes it looks like rest. Sometimes it’s simply choosing to stay rooted when it would be easier to pull back.

At Terra Valley Farms, we’re entering winter with a lot of gratitude — for the people who support what we’re building here, for the hands that help tend it, and for the chance to keep learning how to do this work better. More thoughtfully. More sustainably. More in rhythm with the land instead of against it.

The days will get longer now, even if we can’t quite feel it yet.
The light returns slowly here, filtered through clouds, softened by rain but it does return.

Until then, we’ll keep tending what’s beneath the surface.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for supporting this place and the people who care for it. We truly couldn’t do this without you.

One last note before we close out the year:
Our After the Flood: Clean Up & Carry On Presale is open through December 31. We put this together after so many of you asked how to support us this offseason, and every bit helps us continue the work of recovery and rebuilding.

Here’s to a little more light — for all of us — as we head into the new year.

With gratitude,
Chelcie