May 27, 2024, Oley, PA- It was a time of assessment, as the eight-month old regarded me from her high chair, as seven of us gathered for breakfast this morning, at a substantial place called Nudy’s Cafe. I’ve noticed that infants born this year are less likely to grasp a finger that is placed in their hand, without first carefully looking at the person for a while. This is a new experience for me, and it will be interesting to see how the youngest Alphas and first-born Betas (from next year on) turn out, in terms of later social interaction. She did call out to me and maintain eye contact, as the meal progressed. Her older brother, on the other hand, talked non-stop, about subjects ranging from the planets to dinosaurs. He is bound and determined to be a social butterfly.

Rain, or the hint of it, led to another event in Exton being canceled. So, after the sumptuous breakfast, I bid farewell to 2/3 of my Brandywine Valley family and headed up here, a scant forty minutes and a cultural world away. Oley Valley is all about farms, traditional values of Mennonites and a strong bond between humans and the land. My host, David, said that there was a time when a lively camp existed, at the end of the road which borders his family’s properties on the west. There was camping and fishing there. Now, since the owner of the camp died, the forest has grown back up and there is a clear marker between fields and woods. Manatawny Creek is only reached by bushwhacking a bit, at least in that particular spot.

The Greenhouse, which still bears the Glick family name, and was built up by David and his family, goes on without his leadership. It looks like it is still booming, though, having expanded to nine houses, during his last few years of active work there. He is turning his attention now to the garden beds, on an adjoining property. Love for the soil never leaves a true farmer’s heart.

I walked down to the edge of the forest, and saw these scenes, during the course of this afternoon.