This has been our best strawberry season yet.

Six years in, and it just keeps getting better—more flavor, more life, more learning.

Strawberries are a culture. They take care, patience, and real attention to detail. But what made the biggest difference this year? The love in the field, and the long game of ecological rotation starting to pay off.

This season’s field is the result of a full year of preparation. We planted a cover crop, let it overwinter, then ran chickens through the field. Their manure, the breaking down of the plants, the sunlight, the water—it all worked together to build something rich and alive.

After clearing it, we spread two generous inches of living compost—thanks to our friends at Tierra Verde. We watered it in deeply, spaded it clean, and tested the soil. No inputs needed. None. The tilth is strong. The organic matter is high. The field is vibrant.

And the strawberries? They’re bursting with flavor. Sweet, sun-kissed, and full of joy. Grown in community, not in isolation.

What’s happening here is a counterpoint to the conventional strawberry model seen across California. In those fields, strawberries are often planted in the same place every year. The soil gets sick. So they fumigate with chemicals like methyl bromide—banned for decades, yet still in use.

They tarp the soil, kill all life, then rebuild it synthetically. Spray after spray. Fertilizers, pesticides, more spray. And then they open it to the public—kids and families walking fields that were chemically sterilized not long before.

And the flavor? Often missing. Harvested early. Packaged in plastic. Shipped far from the field.

What we’re doing here is different. It’s slower. It’s relational. It’s alive.

We’re already preparing next year’s strawberry fields. Planting cover. Spreading compost. Caring for the land with love and intention. Because that’s how real flavor grows. That’s how community grows.

Come taste it for yourself.