Harvest Quotes

“The more you harvest, the quicker and easier it becomes”
― Charles Dowding, Charles Dowding's Skills for Growing

“I want you to understand what you are doing, not just perform tasks because I say so.”
― Charles Dowding, Charles Dowding's Skills for Growing

“Feed the soil, not your plants.”
― Charles Dowding, Charles Dowding's Skills for Growing

“Keep an open mind and try some new methods.”
― Charles Dowding, Charles Dowding's Skills for Growing

“We are surrounded by forces that technology cannot yet measure.”
― Charles Dowding, Charles Dowding's Skills for Growing

“It’s incredible to reflect on how much knowledge and growth power is contained in seeds.”
― Charles Dowding

“The reaper does not listen to the harvest.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

“Before the fruits of prosperity can come, the storms of life need to first bring the required rains of testing, which mixes with the seeds of wisdom to produce a mature harvest.”
― Lincoln Patz

“What are you planting today to harvest tomorrow?”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“People who found something to live and die for always live in the hope of success. They never allow doubts to create distances between them and their harvest time. That is also their decision.”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Dream big!: See your bigger picture!

“It's Harvest Time.
Jewish New Year.
Back to School.
The new theatrical season.
These are September to me.

Apples and honey,
sharpened pencils
and the sounds of warm-ups,
voices and bodies getting going.
Hope and promise
and things re-newed.”
― Shellen Lubin

“An image suddenly loomed in his mind: the greenhouse effect. Yes. The Earth is a gigantic greenhouse. With us planted here millions of years ago by aliens. Soon they’ll be back for the harvest.”
― John Ajvide Lindqvist, Handling the Undead

“The warm September sun brought up the aroma of frosty crops and damp earth. It wrapped around the men standing in groups, making them sweat underneath their good wool jackets and igniting the sharp stink of overheated and excited people. Everyone had been preparing for weeks, and they’d all travelled miles to be there, on the edge of the small village. The harvest was mostly finished, and a collective sense of tired gratification lay beneath the day’s nervous energy.”
― Julia Merritt, horse/man

“Do not expect good harvest from bad plant.”
― Kamaran Ihsan Salih

“Well, dearest, what would you tell a farmer who had an over-abundant harvest? To plant less, of course!"...
"I am not complaining about the frequency of the planting," she said. "I’d just rather not reap a crop every year.”
― Sharon Kay Penman, Time and Chance

“My heart space is open to receiving inspiration from the Divine. Because of this, my harvest will continue to be fruitful and bountiful.”
― Robin S. Baker, Esotericism With an Unconventional Soul: Exploring Philosophy, Spirituality, Science, and Mysticism

“Autumn was a harvest of big-box stores and their back-to-school sales: fruit leather, instant mac 'n' cheese, and bread that we unhusked, crinkling, from its plastic sleeve. My mouth watered for the sweetness of processed wheat sown thick through gas stations from California to New York. Honey Buns and Wonder Breads, in perfect squares and machined circles, and the ripe weight of a Danish, mass-produced, that attempts no fidelity to the country after which it is named--- no country but this one ambered by waves of industrial grain.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“Muriel landed in the garden she’d planted that first morning, unable to breathe but that was okay. It would end where it started. No more cages, no more schemes, a final harvest.”
― Vincent H. O'Neil, A Pause in the Perpetual Rotation

“The earth grows white with harvest; all day long
The sickles gleam, until the darkness weaves
Her web of silence o'er the thankful song
Of reapers bringing home the golden sheaves.
The wave tops whiten on the sea fields drear,
And men go forth at haggard dawn to reap;
But ever 'mid the gleaners' song we hear
The half-hushed sobbing of the hearts that weep.”
― John McCrae

“In terms of diet, humans have paid a high price for the pleasure of enjoying a yearly harvest feast.”
― Daniel E. Lieberman, The Story of the Human Body: Evolution, Health, and Disease

“At the last market of the season I still had produce to sell. My pumpkin vines had flourished, so I could lay out eighteen small, golden sugar pumpkins, perfect for pies. I also had potatoes and carrots and a dozen jars of blackberry preserves. Charlotte and I were especially proud of those. The glass jars with their felt-topped lids glowed like garnets in the autumn sun.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“An Eleventh Pretender by Stewart Stafford

Pardon me, thou art king
Of paling November’s hedgerow,
Demanding fealty from December,
That crowns the year, and justly so.

I hear thy shrill trumpets blow,
They shake my windows so.
None shun the stepping stone.
To Christmas feasting’s glow.

Thou host saints and souls indeed,
Commemorate foiled plots.
Martinmas turns harvest to winter,
And mirth at Guildhall spots.

Thou art an impostor yet
in the Western world, or here.
Blow hence, ninth month of Rome,
Paucity’s envy of double-digit's year.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“The Spinning Year by Stewart Stafford

Warm days, leaves of green,
Winter's looming touch between,
Harvesting in chill of night,
Spiders crawl in roused delight.

Rearranging the hibernacle,
My living quarter tabernacle,
To see out the darkened months,
Until come Spring's timed shunts.

Emerge into a world of change,
Earth's mother hand will rearrange,
Another tree ring sagely earned,
See around a new corner turned.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“The Reaping by Stewart Stafford

Paint a nostalgic landscape today,
A harvest gifted once in this way,
Stranger's yields come to pass,
Only that season's memory lasts.

A fallow field to revisit in time,
Golden reaping of a private mind,
As gleaners, newcomers gather,
Reminiscence thickens to slather.

As the body grows old like the land,
With crop circles on backs of hands,
In solstice, your seed does replenish,
Past where scars of life can blemish.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“I have carted mangolds many times since then, and it is an occasion that always marks for me the beginning of winter. I recall those twilights, the gaunt yet tender-coloured sky, the still air, pheasants calling in the distance, or a hunting-horn sounding for home. The last of summer's wealth is housed, and ahead lies frost and early dark, shooting, hunting, forelight; ploughing and cross-ploughing, the breaking of ice for the creatures' drink, the carting of straw for their warmth.”
― Adrian Bell, Corduroy

“Outside, the moon is up - the harvest moon over harvest fields. It casts a sheen upon the empty stubbles, the bare rounding slopes, so altered from the close-crowded landscape of standing corn. It has glimmering secrets among the trees, and pierces into every entanglement of foliage, and lays faint shadows across the paths. Each finds a ghost of himself beside him on the ground. An elusive radiance haunts the country; the distances have a sense of shining mist. The men move homeward from the field; the last load creaking up the hill behind them, the hoofs of horses thudding, their breath sounding short. Peace comes, a vision in the fairy armour of moonlight, the peace of 'man goeth forth unto his work until the evening.”
― Adrian Bell, Corduroy

“The last footfall dies into silence. The stillness tingles with the aftermath of noise. All around stand the new cornstacks, unfamiliar shadows, ramparts thrown up suddenly round the yard. An owl detaches itself silently from the darkness of a beam, swoops down into the moonlight and away, now white against a shadow, now black against the moon. A mouse scuttles somewhere in the straw. The gaunt shape of a binder stands in the corner, angular as a skeleton under its cloth. Its work is over until next year.”
― Adrian Bell, Corduroy

“From the soil of mistakes, we harvest lessons of wellbeing, watering our roots with the wisdom of experience.”
― Dr Prem Jagyasi

“Discipleship is messy. There are seasons of growth followed by seasons of pruning. Some seasons burst forth with rapid change, and others are seasons of rest. But disciple makers are reminded that God is the Lord of the Harvest.”
― Curtis Ferrell, The Way to Discipleship: Thinking Well About the Kingdom of God

“Our bonfire burns brightly,
alighting our hot harvest.
Scarce seeds of winter's heat,
as its first dawn inflames.
Sprouting into a plant
that roots within my soul.
[Winter Solstice's Secret]”
― Susan L. Marshall, Wild Soul: Contemporary Classical Winter Poetry