So, a few weeks ago me and my friends went apple picking on this crazy crisp, crazy, blue-sky day. The apples were a variety called Winesapps, which means they shone a deep, glossy red color like cinnamon candy, and they bobbed on their branches like those Christmas ornaments I used to see at the mall. My friends and I plucked them with clumsy cold fingers, waddled around with big bags of fruit strapped to our fronts, and taught each other songs to pass the time. We also marveled at the abundance around us–all those perfect globes, just there for the taking. We were at an orchard belonging to a man named Dan Kelly, a long-time friend of the Tri-communities, and as the afternoon ended we got to choose what we wanted to get in trade for our labor: fruit now, or cider later. I chose the cider.

This is Emeshe, by the way, here to give you a little Dancing Rabbit update. 

Fast forward from that day to yesterday morning. There was snow coming down, but not in a cute, fluffy way. It was frigid cold, and a couple of positive COVID tests had the village in hunker-down mode. Then the email came: DAN KELLY COMING TODAY! Reluctant to leave my fire, I begrudgingly bundled myself to the brim, and scuttled outside to claim the peeled and pressed fruits of my labor. 

When I reached the front of the village, insead of finding the grumpy and hurried scene I was expecting–people dashing into the cold to get their apple products and run–I found an adorable village tableau. Cheerful villagers in poofy clothes sharing their anticipation of cider. Peaceable chatter. Dan Kelly, a wiry man in flannel, filling hodge-podge drinking vessels with amber liquid. Cricket the dog scampering around in a brown, homemade coat. It was a moment of camaraderie on a blustery day, and I was delighted. 

When I think about it now, this delightful moment doesn’t feel particularly unique in this two-week period since the visitor season ended. Things around the village have felt close and quiet, warm and intimate. The community has felt sweet. I have been delighted by the crackling of the fire as I slip into Casa to meditate in the mornings. Delighted by sips of coffee as Althea and I discuss her blossoming taste in music. Delighted by pink and white meadow mushrooms growing in places where Ben and the Dairy Co-op have pastured the animals. There is an exhale of fruition in the air which is both lovely, and deceptive. 

Deceptive because there is also a current of planning and anticipation in the village. The Long Term Planning Committee is bursting with ideas about how to sustainably grow and improve Dancing Rabbit. Ben is shopping around an agro-forestry co-op that would help feed the village in the future. 

Over at the CSCC, the village nonprofit which runs educational programs and interfaces with the outside world, we’re already working on updating the visitor and internship programs for 2023. It feels like something is coming back to life after years of COVID shutdown and I often catch myself daydreaming about new workshop ideas, or planning interesting projects, before I’ve gotten myself out of bed. 

My friends, Eric and Danielle, are also spending time preparing for the CSCC’s Giving Tuesday fundraising campaign coming up on November 29th, for which we have received a $5,000 matching donation from The Hothem Family. As someone who doesn’t know much about the nonprofit world just yet, I’m doing my best to contribute by sending them my photographs, and by mentioning it to you here. 

So that’s my little window into what's going on at Dancing Rabbit. In some ways we are sitting back and enjoying the fruits of our labor–eating the goodies we grew over the summer, taking time to relax and enjoy our fires, spending time together–and in some ways we are already gearing up for next year, getting excited about our goals, looking to a better future, and filling our long nights with dreams.