By Liza Gershman
I spend my mornings walking through farms—the soft shuffle of boots in soil, musing over the ripeness of lettuce, turnips, and mulberries.
There’s a rhythm to it all: the harvest, the heat, the soft plunk of fruit into baskets and the bubbling whisper of molten strawberries on the stove. The gift of the Farm + Market: Healdsburg book is in the people I’m meeting, the friends I’ve reconnected with, and the beauty of walking through gardens, farms, ranches, and land in and around the place we all love. I get to be a respectful listener now, peeking in on the season’s fresh beauty, hearing it bloom.
Late spring in Healdsburg delivers a particular rhythm, and the musical notes to that cacophony—the notes that carry everyone forward here—can be found in the gardens and fields. Our music is delivered in something greater than sound.
Recently, I found myself at a potluck on a sprawling ranch in Dry Creek. Lively bands played and people danced, and the sounds that lasted through the night came from sighs of contentment and delight over the endless bounty of locally sourced food. From a whole pig roasting on a spit—courtesy of Ari Rosen, one of the town’s most beloved chefs—to the array of seasonal berry pies (part of a pie contest), over a hundred Healdsburg folks came together to celebrate community.
And that community is noticeably gleeful about food. What we eat, what we drink, how we grow, and where we grow from, is the through-note that makes this town a harmonic song.
The next week brought a quieter rhythm. I visited a farm along the winding west dry creek road to learn more about the origins of the Certified Farmers’ Market. We spoke about regenerative farming and future planning and community programs to keep our food structure strong. When I went to wash my hands after traipsing through some dirt, what felt like music to my ears was the stack of books beside the sink: seed catalogs, gardening journals, and—if I’d been nosy enough to check—likely an almanac.
One can tell a lot about a place by what’s left out for flipping through. On Nantucket, where I’ve spent many summers, you might find an L.L. Bean catalogue, a casually tossed Social Register, or the Historic Association’s latest meeting minutes. But here in Healdsburg, it’s seed catalogs. And that quiet stack, that will create a lively chorus of its own one day with birds and butterflies flapping their wings and hoes digging into soil, told me more about this place than almost anything else could. We are connected by our land, and that vibration hums through everyone.
This season, there are a few simple ways to stay connected to the rhythm of Healdsburg—whether it’s through a Saturday morning market visit, a new recipe, or a quiet glance at the seed catalogs on your counter. You can also participate in the Farm + Market: Healdsburg book—submit a recipe, come have your photo taken, and help share the story of our town.
Liza Gershman’s upcoming book, “Farm + Market: Healdsburg,” will celebrate the people, recipes and local bounty of the community. Proceeds from the book go to support the Healdsburg Certified Farmers’ Market. For more details, please visit the website at healdsburgbook.com.
