After a morning of too much coffee and a scattered list of unrelated tasks and errands finished, my mind was jittery, numb and disconnected as I splashed to the end of the dirt road that brings you to Stone Hollow Farm in Bakersfield. I was picking up our first CSA box of the season.

I had met Ken Carter and Melissa Dion years ago as a reporter covering farming issues in Franklin County, but before summer 2012 Launie and I had only bought their produce at the Northwest Farmer's Market in St. Albans. Their supple heads of lettuce - the size of a newborn baby - and bright, fresh-cut flowers are always some of the prizes that make a trip to the market worth it. Now I was picking up the first of the batches of summer food we'll be bringing home every other week.

I was greeted by three dogs warily circling my small truck and barking. I remembered these dogs from times I had visited as a reporter so - even though one of the barks was followed by a disturbing guttural growl - I opened my door without much fear of attack. One of the black dogs immediately stopped barking and poked his dripping head through the open door at lap level, bumping my hand into a petting position.

Then I saw Ken appear on the path leading from the fields. As he approached, he told the dogs to calm down.

"Hey Ken," I hollered, standing up and walking toward him. "It's been a long time."

I extended my hand and we shook.

"Sorry about that," he said, hanging and shaking his head a little. "My hands are dirty."

His hands were coated with stray pieces of straw and earth. His hair drained rainwater onto his face as he told me he'd been mulching. Normally he has a list of rainy day projects so he doesn't have to work outside in wet weather, but he had worked through that list in the previous two days of rain, he said.

The lake and river levels were still low around the our region, but Ken said this has had little affect on their crops.

"We have a wet farm," he said.

I told him about our love - as apartment dwellers on a hot third floor - for rain and gray skies. He laughed when I described Launie's glee every time the weather man apologizes for a "few bad days." Over the sound of raining hitting his shirt he said, "I don't mind the sun."

He led me through the old barn's door into a cooled room that looked like it was once the holding tank area in the days when this farm was a dairy operation. Ken has been growing organic produce on the their land for over a decade, starting small with a focus on garlic and expanding to a wide range of vegetables. They now have a 27-member CSA - including new recruits Launie and I. Melissa is the public face of the operation - manning the Stone Hollow table at the Northwest Farmer's Market - while Ken prefers to tend the fields and maintain the farm.

Ken gestured to a sturdy homemade pine box overflowing with green leaves, and told me this is where we'll be picking up our shares of the bounty.  As I was getting ready to leave there was a phone call. Ken and I said a silent goodbye as he talked into the receiver. I climbed into the truck and nestled the pine box on the seat beside me. I paused to admire it. An enormous head of green leaf lettuce, a bag of salad greens, a healthy head of spinach. Bok choy leaves, carrot tops (their bright orange roots hiding below) and garlic scapes all draped high over the edge. Feeling around inside I found two summer squash and a dark green zucchini.

The season was off to a great start and I was looking forward to seeing Launie's face as I brought the basket through the apartment door. It would be just like when the weather man says rain is on the way.

(Top photo by Jedd Kettler; bottom photo by Launie Kettler)