There are moments in life, when you cross paths with a soul and you just know.
You're intrigued by them; you want to spend time with them, and it's instant. That was Grace for me.
My mother, daughter and myself were at the Annapolis Farmer's Market a few weeks back, amongst the bustle of shoppers and vendors. It was a bit too crowded to chat with folks, so I was ready to scoot. My mother, ever the one to chat know matter the circumstances, reached over and said, "I want you to meet Grace before we leave. She's the one I bought sunflowers from last week."
I obliged, knowing that it meant something special to my mom. So, I followed her over to Grace's table at the market. She had a few sunflowers left, as she stood back from us; head down. I mentioned to her that her sunflowers were beautiful and that my mother had given some to me last week. She quietly kept her chin low and gave me a little smile.
She had a friend there with her and he was kind and spoke with us for a bit. The more he talked, the more Grace seemed to open up. I told her that I started a blog about local farmers and so on. She told me, in the faintest of a voice, that she lived on a farm off Bacon Ridge Road. And if we wanted to come blueberry pickin' that afternoon, we were welcome.
And so our adventure with Grace began...
Polyansky Farm is located at 1238 Bacon Ridge Road in Crownsville, MD. As Grace had informed us, "Look for the two John Deere mailboxes." That's how you know where to turn. Pulling up her long driveway, there is no fanfare, large sign, nothing. Accept for the handmade cardboard note protruding from the barn door.
Grace greeted us within a minute of our arrival, and encouraged us to drive down the hill to pick blueberries. We did as such, as she walked down to join us.
We had entered her family homestead. And the blueberry bushes were bountiful. They sprang with fervor from the very ground her family had been tending to since 1915. My mother sat in the Jeep, while my daughter, husband and myself got to pickin'. Grace kept us company the entire time.
The more we picked, the more Grace opened up. The more her hands got to work, the more she felt at ease. Her and I would weave between the bushes, as she talked in such a soft, gentle voice. It was a bit of a dance - pickin' and listening, stopping and smilin'. I couldn't hear every word, but there was beauty in that. She was being herself, and I respected her ways. We picked for hours; collecting a gallon's worth of blueberries.
Little quips of our conversation rung through my ears. Her family home was 200 years old. Her parents met after WWII, where her father was a front runner in the war; running out into the fields to see if there were any Germans. Mother worked in a canning factory during those times. Grace's dad had owned the land before the war; all 42 acres are agricultural land.
My daughter and husband picked and picked, while I chatted and popped a few in my mouth. Her family had planted those blueberry bushes in 1986. No harsh chemicals are ever used on them. Just a homemade natural insecticide to protect their prized berries.
After blueberry picking, Grace came over, and softly said, "I see you got a Jeep. Wanna go off-roading?" My smile could have been seen from space! If you wanna light me up, lets hang in nature and go four-wheelin'. With no hesitation at all (and at our own risk), Grace led the charge in her little pick-up, as we followed behind and ventured deeper into her family's farm. It was hilly and wooded, since her homestead bumps up to Bacon Ridge; a well-known mountain biking trail. But it was worth every curse word coming from my mother's mouth, as she rode shotgun.
My daughter giggled in the back seat; my husband laughed and commented on my driving skills and I just smiled. Ear to ear.
We wrapped up our time with Grace, back in the sunshine, along her sunflower patch.
"We need rain bad. Most of the farmers are having a hard time right now. Lack of rain."
- Grace Polyansky
Grace reminded me of a few truths that afternoon -
People are kind; you just need to take time with them. Get to know them in a safe, comforting space.
Living the simple life is a beautiful way to live. Grace doesn't have a phone, computer, nothing. So you certainly won't find her on social media.
Farmers are integral to our livelihood. We need them. And I respect them tremendously.
Grit. Lots of it.
We had the best time with Grace and are so appreciative of her hospitality. You can find her most Saturdays at the Annapolis Farmer's Market, where she sells her blueberries and sunflowers. Her offerings change with the seasons, to include ferns, different types of flowers, firewood, and stones from her family homestead. But let me tell you - get there early because she sells out quickly.
You could also venture to her farm and pick your own. Fresh blueberries will be available until the first of September. They've lasted weeks in our fridge and we had plenty to freeze as well. You can't get more fresh than this. And I promise you, it's worth the visit.