Excerpt No. 0005 Curiosity Is the Farmer's Greatest Tool
People think a farmer's most valuable tools are a tractor.
A shovel.
A pair of pruning shears.
Maybe a weather station.
They're all important.
But none of them compare to curiosity.
Curiosity has kept more vineyards alive than any piece of equipment ever built.
The day you believe you've figured farming out...
You're already behind.
Nature has a funny way of humbling people who think they've mastered her.
She changes the weather.
The soil.
The timing.
The pests.
The rain.
The wind.
Just enough to remind you who's really in charge.
I've farmed long enough to know one thing for certain.
The vineyard owes me nothing.
Every season starts with another test.
Every sunrise asks another question.
Did you notice?
Did you prepare?
Were you paying attention?
Did you learn anything last year?
Some mornings I walk the vineyard looking for problems.
Other mornings I walk looking for surprises.
Most days I find both.
The more curious I become, the less the vineyard feels like work.
It feels like a conversation.
One where I spend far more time listening than talking.
I worry less about having the right answers today than I do about asking the right questions tomorrow.
Why did that vine struggle?
Why did those roots reach deeper?
Why did one block thrive while another simply survived?
The answers matter.
But the questions are what keep me walking.
Curiosity doesn't just make better farmers.
It makes better parents.
Better husbands.
Better neighbors.
Better business owners.
The moment we stop asking questions, we begin repeating ourselves.
Life gets smaller.
The world becomes less interesting.
Wonder quietly disappears.
I've met people who know more about wine than I'll ever know.
I've met scientists who understand vines at a molecular level.
I've learned from every one of them.
Because curiosity doesn't care where wisdom comes from.
It only asks that you're humble enough to recognize it when it arrives.
If there's one thing I hope my children inherit from me, it isn't my vineyards.
It isn't the winery.
It isn't even this Almanac.
I hope they inherit the desire to keep asking questions.
Because curious people continue growing long after everyone else believes they've arrived.
Maybe that's why I've never really thought of myself as an expert.
Experts sound finished.
Farmers aren't finished.
Tomorrow morning we'll walk back into the vineyard and discover something we've never seen before.
That's enough to get me out of bed.
Filed Away
The day you stop asking questions is the day the vineyard stops teaching you.
Stay curious.
The vines still have more to say.
Keith Saarloos
Farmer
Saarloos & Sons
