May 2026

Greetings CSA Members,

I’m excited to welcome you back in a few short weeks. It will be a bittersweet reunion because I’ve made the hard decision that this will be my final season running the CSA at Restoration Farm. Whether or not this will be my final season farming at all depends on the emergence of a viable succession plan. There are so many factors at play I hardly know where to begin, but I’ll do my best to outline them here.

Dan and I launched the farm determined to build something sustainable. Our 20-year tenure, however, was powered by a combination of factors unique to our moment in time. Back in 2007, we were welcomed by Nassau County. We were young and willing to put our money—and our backs—on the line. Customer expectations were modest, and our families pitched in. We put these advantages to good use, investing in the soil and CSA because that was our best insurance against climate change and market volatility. We managed to attract like-minded idealists willing to labor for very little. Hard work and stubbornness were critical to our success, but so was timing and luck.

Twenty years later, much has changed. Nassau County is not the partner it once was, as evidenced by our lack of a contract. Our backs are getting creaky. We’ve raised the bar of customer expectations, but we have not been able to retain consistent labor. What’s more, the farm could use a big capital infusion. The Tin House roof, our tractors, our sheds, tents, and outbuildings—all are in need of replacement or repair. A young couple might welcome these challenges as we once did, but Dan and I have arrived at a fork in the road. With two kids on the cusp of college, and retirement to prepare for, we need to make the most of our remaining years in the workforce. Nothing would please me more than to spend another 20 years at Restoration Farm, but I cannot labor as hard as I once did, or pin my hopes on apprentices who may depart after a year or two. That chapter is ending. It’s time for the next chapter to begin.

So what comes next? After years of just mulling it over, I spent the previous winter actively reaching out to individuals and institutions in the hopes of finding a successor—or a plan. There were promising leads and dead ends, and I could fill pages with observations and reflections. All of which has led me to the conclusion that until I step down, no one will step up. Dan and I been the face of the farm since its founding, and if we want to usher in new growers, we’ll have to stop occupying center stage.

So I don’t know what comes next, but I’m ready to stand aside and see if my winter efforts bear fruit. Whether it’s a commercial operation in the current mold, or farm-based education, I simply want farming to continue at OBVR. That’s why this will be my final season running the CSA. Dan and I must be able to operate as free agents during this period of change. I should note that the farm is not ours to pass on—only Nassau County can do that. But Restoration Farm is now a turn-key operation, and there’s reason to believe the County will come to the table when the time is right.

Now that leaves you, our CSA members, with quite a bit to digest. We’ve been through so much together, there’s no way I could put a neat little bow on all that I’m thinking and feeling right now. So I’ll just leave it at this: being your farmer has enriched my life more than you will ever know. I’m proud of what was accomplished and hopeful for what lies ahead. As proof, our crew is sticking to the annual routine of establishing new strawberry beds—beds that won't be ready for picking until 2027. We don’t know who next year’s stewards or pickers will be, but we're propelled by the hope that if you plant it, they will come.
 
In the meantime, Dan and I look forward to making the most of this season with you.

With much love,
Caroline