However, the answer is always more complex. I never wanted to be a planter for this long. I still remember the third day of my first year like it was yesterday; freezing cold, slipping down an embarkment during a snowstorm that ended up cancelling our day. I wanted nothing more than to quit and be done with it. And, this is what most people in my life expected me to do. So six years on, what happened?
The pragmatic answer is that I started planting when I wasn’t in school and now that I’m in school, I rely on that source of income. I’d rather spend my summers in Montreal, but planting affords me a certain luxury that is hard to give up.
In my 5 years as a planter I have been fortunate to meet some incredible people. When you spend 2-4 months living, sleeping, working and eating beside the same people, emotional bonds are hard to break. We come from across Canada and apart from the occasional visit, this is the time we get to spend together.
The experiences I’ve had planting pale in comparison to my daily life of school and work. Bar visits and fights, close encounters with bears, being struck by lighting, visiting the Yukon, hiking mountains, being in an environment that few have experienced, dealing with the scary characters that make up the Canadian north, etc. With certain exceptions, I’m glad I went through what I have been through.
Moreover, it is more of the small things; sleeping in a tent, the wildlife, the smell and feel of dirt, the food, the quiet drives and anticipation for the end of a long day. I’m a real sentimentalist apparently.
Finally, if all goes well, this short season of 1.5-2 months will finance a short July/August trip to Europe with Tracey.
I still remember my first year of planting… and saying things like “what kind of person would still be planting when they are 25?!” And here I (we) are, at age 26… what happened?!(ps,imissyou)