About The New AgrarianI have been planting content here off and on since 2002, with occasional attempts at cultivation and pruning. All of it swirls around more or less agrarian ideas: food and agriculture, including some practical things, but also craft, community, technology, embodiment, history, sustainability, nature, and place. As you might guess, I’ve changed my mind a few times on all these topics since I started a decade ago. I cultivate, but not always in neat rows. Read my Explanation and Apologia to learn more.
The fine printThe New Agrarian is copyright ©2002–2017 by David Walbert. All rights reserved, but I'm generally pretty nice about sharing, so feel free to ask.
Tag Archives: death
Many of his disciples, when they heard it, said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” …Jesus said to the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we … Continue reading
Jesus answered… “We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” He spat … Continue reading
Originally published by New American Homesteader in 2015. Under a bright December sky we gathered to kill the St. Elizabeth House chickens. My friends who built the coop and tended the chickens had moved to Georgia for a new job, … Continue reading
For feral flowers gone a-ramble over roots and moss, from the tumbledown stones of a life’s foundation. From the mossy bones of a house that must once have been tidy, must once have been kept tidy by her who planted … Continue reading
For mud, that dank cacophony of death and life from which all life and death comes new. All the leavings of forgotten seasons, entombed as one, consumed and voided, long returned to elements. Carcasses of spiders. Beetles, grubs. Wings of … Continue reading
Photo by Virginia Sanderson. I’m pretty sure this isn’t theologically correct, but it seemed to help my daughter on our lunchtime walk today, when we found a tiny bird lying on the asphalt, crushed by a car. Lord, please guide … Continue reading
Feynman, our first basset hound, died yesterday. She was twelve. A tumor burst in her abdomen, but she wasn’t in pain for long, and we had time to say goodbye and buy her one last cheeseburger and some coffee ice … Continue reading
My grandmother died this morning. To liven the mood I shall tell a story. When I was about five or six years old, my parents drove me down to the beach for the day where my grandparents were camping. We … Continue reading