By late July the rows look finished. The plants are knee-high and dark green, and the first small flowers have opened at the leaf joints. Once the plant flowers, more of what it makes goes down into the root, and everything that matters now is happening where we cannot watch it. Harvest is October. Until then the work is underground.
Late July is also the month the deer carry new antlers in velvet, soft and still growing, and the old calendars named the full moon for them. This year it rises over the farm on Wednesday, July 29. The antlers and the roots are on the same schedule. Both are building something hard out of something tender, and neither shows it until autumn.
That is how this plant works in a person, too. Nobody takes ashwagandha once and feels strong. You take one dropper at night, and again the next night, and a few weeks in you notice you slept through, or that a hard day did not follow you home. The strength was growing the whole time. It just was not visible yet.
So, for this moon, one small thing: name what you are growing that nobody can see. A habit, a repair, a body coming back. Then go outside when the moon comes up, because it will be low and gold and bright enough to cast shadows, and give it five minutes you do not have.
Warm ashwagandha wishes,
Jeff and the farm team
These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease.
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