Hōailona

A remember a day a few years ago when I was feeling pretty down about life at the Genuine Faux Farm.  This, in itself, is nothing new.  I am sure I am just like so many other people in this world.  Things don't always work out and you begin to question what you are doing and how you are doing it.  You wonder if your efforts make a difference.  And, when it comes to something that can be as all-encompassing as working on a small, diversified farm to grow food for people, the roller-coaster ride can be pretty dramatic and quite wearing on a person.

A Black Swallowtail at the farm in 2021

On this particular day, I found myself alone on the farm.  There were no workers.  Tammy was at school.  It was just me on the farm, acknowledging that, once again, we were having to deal with pesticides, heavy rains and limited resources to address them and the myriad other issues and tasks that the farm required of us.

I will admit that there are also times when I will talk to myself when I am alone on the farm.  And, I have been heard to mutter, "Why in the world am I doing this?"

On this particular day, things were really getting to me, so I voiced those words a bit more forcefully than I usually do.  And, I will admit that there might even have been some profanity laced in there.  I was struggling with the situation THAT much.

Why... in ... the ... world... am I doing this?!?

At that moment, a Tiger Swallowtail butterfly floated over my shoulder and proceeded to land on the clover that was flowering at my feet.  It sat there for a second or two until the words, "Oh, that's why," left my lips.

Fast forward to 2021, and we find the farmer is farming less and writing more - especially given his job for the Pesticide Action Network.  I am still prone to those moments of asking "why?" and I suspect the question will always be under the surface whenever things do not go well.  But now, when I ask, I mentally picture a Tiger Swallowtail on the clover at my feet.

I recently shared that story with my co-worker who is the organizer for Hawai'i.  She informed me this is hōailona - a sign from the Universe, from the Elements  ... from something bigger than we are.

The difficulty with omens or signs is that we are always so ready to make them fit what we want them to be instead of really listening and really contemplating what they were MEANT to be.  And, if they aren't something we want, we tend to ignore them for what they are.

In fact, I tend to believe that we are provided with signs on a daily basis that tell us things we don't appear to want to hear.

The oak tree leaves throughout the state have been showing more damage earlier in the season over the past decade than they have in prior decades.  It's a sign that the environment they reside in is no longer as friendly as it once was.  And, we know one of the causes is the amounts and types of pesticides we use so freely on our land.  But, this is a sign we prefer to ignore either because it inconveniences us or it reminds us that we are complicit in the destruction of trees many of us cherish.

A drive in the country no longer results in a wind-shield covered in juicy insects of all sorts.  This is another sign that the things we are doing to the world around us is making it less hospital to life.  But, once again, this is easy to discount - especially if you don't particularly like "bugs" and you aren't particularly fond of cleaning windshields.

We like our signs and omens when they comfort us or when they reassure - like a Tiger Swallowtail on the clover.  It's ok, Rob, I know you're doing your best to do the right thing on your farm to support the natural world and still grow good food.  That's a beautiful story and a nice sentiment.

But, it is also telling me that I can't let my distress that things go wrong stop me from seeing the other signs and omens and doing what I can to address the problems they speak of.  I don't want the vision of a swallowtail to become a butterfly's farewell to someone who meant well.  Instead, I want this vision to return and manifest itself every season at the Genuine Faux Farm and everywhere else the clover blooms.