Monday, April 6, 2026

 

What a blessing it is to look around and see pieces of my old prayers scattered everywhere.
Fiona Ncube

THE RIDE 

By Rachael Jones

Last week, I turned 50, and I got a card that said, “Over the hill.” And honestly, it struck me as a surprisingly wise phrase. Not dreary. Not discouraging. Just a gentle reminder that maybe this is the season to cruise.

Many (many, many) moons back, my friend and I used to ride down the biggest hill in our neighborhood with no hands. We would fly down that hill with pure delight—laughing, hair blown straight back, fully in for the ride. No striving. No pedaling. No panic. Just momentum and joy!

If this ride were literal at 50, I might very well take myself out before I made it to the bottom. But still, that old memory has something to teach me about the ride life becomes.

There is something about forward motion that steadies you. A bike in motion holds a kind of balance that standing still cannot. You do not ride a hill like that by tensing up or forcing more. You ride it by yielding a little, trusting what is already carrying you.

Years of love, work, heartbreak, faith, tending, building, waiting, and beginning again—none of it is wasted. It all becomes part of what carries us forward now.

Looking back, I am so grateful for the lessons learned on the farm these past 11 seasons. I feel rested and ripe, and more ready than ever to ride with Locavore into its next season.

Not because I have finally mastered every hill.

But because steadfast love has carried me farther than I know.

Because the laws of motion, mercy, time, and grace are still at work.

Because what is sown in one season often becomes abundance in the next.

Because forward motion has a way of teaching trust.

So yes, I am over the hill now. And by the grace of God, with wind in my face and hands open wide, I am really going to enjoy this ride.

Until Next Time,

-Mrs. (Farmer) Rachael Jones