Short, Cold Days and Reflection from the Farm

A conversation with Local Farmer Ruby Dix

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December on the Island has an element of finality, especially on its vegetable farms. The vibrant colors of spring, summer, and fall give way to stark tones, and the more industrial side of farming stands out. Low sunlight glints off metal fencing, a bright orange Kubota tractor sits quiet and proud, and the naked oak trees—ever abundant on the Island—stand guard over the land. It’s winter, and Island farms are shifting into another mode.

On a recent wintry morning, I stopped by North Tabor Farm to talk with Farm Manager Ruby Dix about their final month of the year.

More than twenty years ago, I interviewed Ruby’s mom, Rebecca Miller, for my cookbook Island Harvest, which celebrated local food and those who produce it. Rebecca and her husband, Matthew Dix, started North Tabor Farm in 1994 and were early leaders in the Island’s small-farm movement. They continue to work and live on the property, though their roles have evolved. Seven years ago, their daughter Ruby—now twenty-seven—stepped in as manager. She oversees the daily operations of this small, mighty, and exceptionally productive family farm in Chilmark.

When I arrived on that brisk morning, brief flashes of sun broke through the clouds—very welcoming. A pair of hysterically honking guard geese alerted Ruby to my presence. Crouton, their massive “pet pig,” stomped out of her shed, clearly grumpy. A handwritten sign warned visitors of her mood.  Ruby laughed, explaining that Crouton was in heat. “We can’t wait until she hits menopause—she is not happy coming into heat. She’s done” Ruby explained.

We wandered to a large picnic table at the back of the farm to talk. Ruby is laid-back in demeanor but speaks with the confidence of a veteran farmer. “The cleanup slowly starts in September,” she said. “We’re working ourselves toward December, when everything needs to be buttoned up. Much of the vegetable growing and harvesting is done through the fall, and the crew is still planting—especially cover crops.

“A cover crop won’t be harvested for profit,” Ruby explained. “It’s a mix of plants that keep your soil alive. You always want something growing so you never have bare ground.” She broke down the basics: there are winter-kill cover crops, which die back after a hard frost and leave behind a mulch-like layer that can be planted into or lightly tilled in. And there are overwintering crops, such as winter rye, which survive the cold and may be gently tilled into the soil in spring. I asked Ruby about the shift from the busy season into the quieter months. “During the season, I oversee and work the farm with a small crew,” she said. “The farmers leave at the end of October, which is bittersweet.” She smiled. “I work solo after that. Things that moved quickly with the three of us now take longer, and sometimes that’s daunting. But it’s also peaceful—I get to move at my own pace.”

The farm stays active deep into fall, with a few winter farmers’ markets. They also manage several hundred laying hens and meat birds, some of which were being processed the day I visited, and this year they pasture-raised about 40 turkeys for Thanksgiving, and sold out! 

By mid-December, the focus shifts. Thoughts of next season begin creeping in as Ruby flipped through seed catalogs and placed spring orders.Three greenhouses will stay quietly active through winter with hardy greens. With the low winter light, they expect to harvest only twice a month. Knowing what the year requires, Ruby takes about six weeks off starting in January to rest, travel, and clear her mind. It’s her chance to reset before planning ramps up again in mid-March, when tomato seedlings begin to sprout in the greenhouse.

Once the season begins, farming becomes a seven-day-a-week life. The days stretch long, and if you’re lucky, here and there you might slip in a quick swim before sunset. I asked her what’s new for 2026. “We’re leasing a new fenced area in Chilmark,” she said, “where I hope to have a big potato field.”  She said the area doesn’t have much water, so she is excited to experiment with all sorts of potatoes, which should do well in those conditions.

Winter on North Tabor Farm is a time to reflect—to quiet the brain and, when possible, slow the body. Because before long, the planning and preparation begins again, and the cycle starts anew.

With more than thirty working farms on the Island, each farmer has their own rhythm for moving through the seasons. For farms with animals, winter is hardly a break. Cold weather, short days, and dormant fields offer little relief. Lambing season arrives in late winter and early spring, and cows, goats, chickens, and horses still need to be fed, exercised, and given pasture time. At Mermaid Farm— the Island’s last dairy— the cows still need to be milked.

In December, many farm stands remain open, offering an impressive range of Island-grown, raised, baked, and crafted goods. It’s a welcome abundance, arriving just in time as we head into the heart of the holiday season.