CT Grown Spotlight: International Year of the Woman Farmer (Sharing Barberry Hill Farm’s story — and celebrating women in agriculture across Connecticut)

 

This year, Connecticut Department of Agriculture and CT Grown are spotlighting a woman farmer each week as part of the International Year of the Woman Farmer. I’m grateful they included Barberry Hill Farm in the series.

ct.grown 

✨International Year of the Woman Farmer Spotlight✨
Kelly Goddard, Barberry Hill Farm

🍅 How many years have you been farming?
30+ years

🍅 Briefly describe your farm operation.
Fifth-generation family farm running a farm stand from June through December, and over the years we’ve sold vegetables, cut flowers, and seasonal fruit through our stand, CSA shares, and farmers markets. We have practiced soil-health-focused farming for decades and recently participated in the Ecdysis Foundation’s 1000 Farms Initiative with strong soil health results.

🍅 What inspired you to become a farmer?
A desire to keep a historic piece of family land alive and meaningful—not just preserved, but working. In the mid-1990s, we built a farm business around a simple idea: grow food, sell it directly to our neighbors, and create a place where community happens. Over time, feeding people locally became more than a job—it became my purpose and the center of how I raised my family.

🍅 What advice would you give to other women considering a career in agriculture?
Start small, stay consistent, and build your operation around what your community truly needs. Find mentors, learn your numbers early, and don’t be afraid to diversify income while the farm grows. Protect your body—farming is physical—and protect your time by setting clear boundaries. Most of all: be proud of the leadership agriculture demands. Farming requires vision, resilience, and problem-solving every single day.

🍅 Describe a challenge you face as a woman farmer. Did you overcome it? How or why not?
A constant challenge has been carrying the responsibility of keeping a farm viable in a high-cost coastal area—while raising children and meeting the relentless labor demands of small-scale agriculture. I overcame it through persistence and creativity: I took on additional work outside the farm when needed, built strong relationships with customers, and leaned on community support and help over the years—including hosting WWOOFers for sixteen years. The challenge never disappears, but you learn to adapt and keep going.

👉 Follow Kelly at @barberryhillfarm on Instagram or visit barberryhillfarm.com

What I love most about this series is that it makes visible the work so many women do — season after season — to feed their communities, care for land, and keep farms viable.

If you’d like to follow along, CT Grown is sharing a new woman farmer story each week. I hope you’ll read, share, and support these farms however you can.

Thank you to everyone who shops our stand, joins the CSA, and helps keep farming possible here on the Connecticut shoreline.

The Healing Power of Winter: A Meditation on Impermanence

 

"There is a kind of silence that only comes in winter on a farm.

The fields rest. The soil sleeps. And if you are quiet enough, you can hear the land breathing—slowly, deeply—the way we all need to sometimes.

Here on the Connecticut shoreline, where this farm has stood since 1909, we have learned what nature teaches those who stay long enough to listen: there is power in the fallow time. There is healing in the quiet."

In winter, the farm strips down to its bones. The stone walls that have lined these fields for over a century emerge from the summer tangle. The old trees stand revealed. Everything non-essential falls away, and what remains is honest.

This is what the land teaches, if we let it: there is beauty in the fallow time. There is purpose in rest. The pause between harvests is not emptiness—it is preparation. It is the ground gathering strength for what comes next.

A farm is a long lesson in impermanence.

Seasons turn. Crops come and go. Helpers arrive and eventually move on. Barns that stood for generations come down, their wood stacked and waiting to become something new. Children grow up and scatter into their own lives. The hands that do the work grow older.

And still—the roots hold.

Perhaps impermanence is not the opposite of home. Perhaps it is what makes home possible. The coming and going. The planting and harvesting. The holding on and the letting go.

The maple buckets go out on the old trees each late winter, just as they did for the generations before us. The sap rises. The cycle begins again. What looks like stillness is actually quiet preparation—the trees gathering what they need, the soil rebuilding itself beneath the frost.

Even the compost steams in the cold air—warmth rising from what is breaking down, becoming the foundation for next year's growth. Decay and renewal are not opposites. They are the same gesture, made with open hands.

 

With the turning of the seasons, the land teaches us there is beauty to be found in change, impermanence, and in letting go.

We think we come to a farm for the tomatoes, the flowers, the harvest. But maybe what we are really seeking is this: permission to rest. Reassurance that the fallow times are not failures. Evidence that the land endures—not unchanged, but continuous. 

Rooted. Still here.

 

Walk outside today if you can. Let the winter air fill your lungs. Notice what is still standing. Notice what has been let go.

The fields will wake again. The seeds will find their way to the light. But for now, there is grace in the waiting.

There is medicine in the quiet.

Rooted in Madison since 1909, Barberry Hill Farm stewards the coastal land our family has cherished for five generations.

Winter Serenity at Barberry Hill Farm

 

End of the Season Update from the Farm

The first hard frost has settled over Barberry Hill Farm, and with it, the season quietly comes to an end. The fields that were once bursting with color now rest under a thin silver veil, reminding us of the rhythm that guides every year here. We’ve finished at the farmers market, and the farm stand will be open just a few more days as we share the last of what we harvested before the cold. Though the days grow shorter, we’re filled with gratitude—for the beauty of the land, for another bountiful season, and for the community that makes it all possible.

Seasons of Farming: Why Autumn is Just the Beginning

As the days grow shorter and the air turns crisp, life on the farm doesn’t slow down—it simply shifts gears. Autumn is one of our favorite times of year: quieter, softer, and full of preparations for what’s ahead. Here’s a look at what’s happening right now at Barberry Hill Farm.

While the fields rest, planning begins: seed catalogs spread across the kitchen table, greenhouse prep, and winter repairs. Farming is cyclical—every task in autumn is a quiet promise to spring.

Autumn is when we “feed the real livestock”—the worms and microbes in the soil. Compost, mulch, and organic matter are spread now to ensure next year’s fertility. It’s humble, unseen work, but it’s the foundation of every harvest.

More than anything, this season makes us grateful—for the land, the food it gives, and the community that supports us. Farming is about more than crops; it’s about connection and care. As we button up the fields, we invite you to stop by the stand, share your own fall garden traditions, or simply enjoy the beauty of the season with us.

Fresh From the Fields: September Update

 "As the season shifts into September, we’ve gathered a collection of snapshots from around the farm—moments that capture the colors, growth, and quiet charm of the past few months."

"We hope these moments from around the farm offer a sense of the season’s rhythm and beauty. As we turn toward fall, we’re grateful for the continued connection with our community."

Julys at the Farm

July is a time of energy (and produce), and these pictures of Julys over the years show this better than any words.