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Observations of an Accidental Farmer―and a Mindful Reader
In forty short and charming chapters, a former "great books" teacher from New York City adapts to his new role on a small Southern farm by observing the natural world and drawing connections to his reading life.
"Erudite and engaging."—Booklist
In late middle-age, Harry Kavros and his wife, Peri, pack up all the household belongings that will fit into their car and leave Manhattan, bound for their new home on a twenty-two-acre patch of pine-filled land in Hillsborough, North Carolina. As Mr. Kavros spends long hours clearing the acreage, not for farming but for sightlines, he muses about the land, the exhausting work it requires, and the rewards the effort offers. Every task he undertakes prompts him to recall and meditate over scenes from his reading life. From the great Greek epics to the writings of Frederick Law Olmstead on landscape, to Thoreau, to modern poets, to a veritable treasury of references, for the author life in the country is also life in among his reading.
Witty and perceptive, Observations of an Accidental Farmer—and a Mindful Reader is about cultivation, of one’s land and one’s life.
"Erudite and engaging."—Booklist
In late middle-age, Harry Kavros and his wife, Peri, pack up all the household belongings that will fit into their car and leave Manhattan, bound for their new home on a twenty-two-acre patch of pine-filled land in Hillsborough, North Carolina. As Mr. Kavros spends long hours clearing the acreage, not for farming but for sightlines, he muses about the land, the exhausting work it requires, and the rewards the effort offers. Every task he undertakes prompts him to recall and meditate over scenes from his reading life. From the great Greek epics to the writings of Frederick Law Olmstead on landscape, to Thoreau, to modern poets, to a veritable treasury of references, for the author life in the country is also life in among his reading.
Witty and perceptive, Observations of an Accidental Farmer—and a Mindful Reader is about cultivation, of one’s land and one’s life.
- GenresNonfictionMemoirNature
228 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 16, 2024
8 people are currently reading
109 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
March 19, 2025
Kavros writes like a man caught between worlds, between the toil of the earth and the life of the mind, between the communal obligations of a bygone Puritan ethic and the restless individualism of the modern South, between a longing for God and the gnawing uncertainty of His presence. "Observations of an Accidental Farmer and a Mindful Reader" is, at its core, a search for something solid, whether in the turning of soil or the turning of pages.
Before he became a farmer, Kavros was a Great Books professor, a man whose days were spent in the company of Homer and Augustine, Dante and Melville. His transition from the classroom to the fields is not just a change in vocation but a shift in how he encounters the world. The farm, like the texts he once taught, demands close reading. It requires attention to seasons, to history, to the wisdom of those who have labored before him. And yet, while his hands find work to do, his heart and mind remain unsettled. The Puritan faith that undergirded the ethic he so admires remains elusive. His reflections on literature, history, and theology reveal a man searching for a God he is not sure he will find.
What makes this book compelling is precisely this tension. Kavros does not write as one who has arrived, nor does he force conclusions upon the reader. Instead, he offers observations, sometimes rich with insight, sometimes meandering, but always honest. He knows the power of words, how they shape the soul, yet his reading does not lead him to certainty. Instead, it fuels his search. In this way, he reminds me of "Jayber Crow," a meditation on faith and doubt, work and rest, belonging and estrangement.
And yet, there is something incomplete about it, not in the sense that the writing is lacking, but that Kavros’s journey remains unresolved. He sees the beauty of the Puritan vision, the power of community, the weight of calling, yet he lingers on the edges of its faith. He is looking for the Puritan God, but whether he has found Him remains uncertain.
Perhaps that is what makes "Observations of an Accidental Farmer and a Mindful Reader" a worthwhile read. It is not a book of answers but of questions, of longings, of the weary hope that somewhere, amidst the fields and the pages, there is something firm to stand on. In many ways, Kavros feels like a Wendell Berry of the North, shaped not by the rolling hills of Kentucky but by the stark, disciplined world of New England. He carries the same love for land and labor, the same distrust of modernity’s shallow comforts, yet his vision is marked by an even greater sense of spiritual estrangement. Berry writes from a place of conviction; Kavros writes from a place of searching. The difference is slight but significant, and it is what makes this book linger in the mind long after the last page is turned.
It is also, in many ways, the perfect book for me. I love the Puritans, and I love books, and Kavros brings both into conversation with a restless honesty that is hard to ignore. His wrestling with work, with words, with faith speaks to the kind of searching that makes for the best reading. Whether one shares his uncertainties or not, there is something deeply compelling about watching a man read and labor his way toward meaning.
And as an aside, Kavros is a man from New York come to the South. Hannah picked this book out for me from a local bookshop, and I read it in a single sitting on our flight to New York last night. Almost in juxtaposition to Kavros, a man from the South come to New York. And, I write this review this morning while sitting in Central Park. Where Kavros observes that Central Park is the greatest architectural achievement in America, an egalitarian marvel that has brought nature to the common man. I would argue that, while beautiful, it is an overcurated attempt to recreate nature. It is a shadow rather than the substance, an imitation rather than the real thing.
Scripture is bookended by two garden cities, two places where man meets with God. And it appears that Kavros has left one man made, lackluster attempt at a garden city for another wrought with his own hands.
And yet, as much as we may search, the Christian faith teaches that certainty is not something we achieve but something we receive. God is not ultimately found in our striving but in His self-revelation. The beauty of the Puritan vision that Kavros admires is not just its ethic of work but its confidence in grace, that the God who orders the seasons is also the God who makes Himself known to those who seek Him.
May we labor alongside Kavros, and may we long to see the beauty of the Land restored.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.
Before he became a farmer, Kavros was a Great Books professor, a man whose days were spent in the company of Homer and Augustine, Dante and Melville. His transition from the classroom to the fields is not just a change in vocation but a shift in how he encounters the world. The farm, like the texts he once taught, demands close reading. It requires attention to seasons, to history, to the wisdom of those who have labored before him. And yet, while his hands find work to do, his heart and mind remain unsettled. The Puritan faith that undergirded the ethic he so admires remains elusive. His reflections on literature, history, and theology reveal a man searching for a God he is not sure he will find.
What makes this book compelling is precisely this tension. Kavros does not write as one who has arrived, nor does he force conclusions upon the reader. Instead, he offers observations, sometimes rich with insight, sometimes meandering, but always honest. He knows the power of words, how they shape the soul, yet his reading does not lead him to certainty. Instead, it fuels his search. In this way, he reminds me of "Jayber Crow," a meditation on faith and doubt, work and rest, belonging and estrangement.
And yet, there is something incomplete about it, not in the sense that the writing is lacking, but that Kavros’s journey remains unresolved. He sees the beauty of the Puritan vision, the power of community, the weight of calling, yet he lingers on the edges of its faith. He is looking for the Puritan God, but whether he has found Him remains uncertain.
Perhaps that is what makes "Observations of an Accidental Farmer and a Mindful Reader" a worthwhile read. It is not a book of answers but of questions, of longings, of the weary hope that somewhere, amidst the fields and the pages, there is something firm to stand on. In many ways, Kavros feels like a Wendell Berry of the North, shaped not by the rolling hills of Kentucky but by the stark, disciplined world of New England. He carries the same love for land and labor, the same distrust of modernity’s shallow comforts, yet his vision is marked by an even greater sense of spiritual estrangement. Berry writes from a place of conviction; Kavros writes from a place of searching. The difference is slight but significant, and it is what makes this book linger in the mind long after the last page is turned.
It is also, in many ways, the perfect book for me. I love the Puritans, and I love books, and Kavros brings both into conversation with a restless honesty that is hard to ignore. His wrestling with work, with words, with faith speaks to the kind of searching that makes for the best reading. Whether one shares his uncertainties or not, there is something deeply compelling about watching a man read and labor his way toward meaning.
And as an aside, Kavros is a man from New York come to the South. Hannah picked this book out for me from a local bookshop, and I read it in a single sitting on our flight to New York last night. Almost in juxtaposition to Kavros, a man from the South come to New York. And, I write this review this morning while sitting in Central Park. Where Kavros observes that Central Park is the greatest architectural achievement in America, an egalitarian marvel that has brought nature to the common man. I would argue that, while beautiful, it is an overcurated attempt to recreate nature. It is a shadow rather than the substance, an imitation rather than the real thing.
Scripture is bookended by two garden cities, two places where man meets with God. And it appears that Kavros has left one man made, lackluster attempt at a garden city for another wrought with his own hands.
And yet, as much as we may search, the Christian faith teaches that certainty is not something we achieve but something we receive. God is not ultimately found in our striving but in His self-revelation. The beauty of the Puritan vision that Kavros admires is not just its ethic of work but its confidence in grace, that the God who orders the seasons is also the God who makes Himself known to those who seek Him.
May we labor alongside Kavros, and may we long to see the beauty of the Land restored.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.
October 13, 2024
I enjoyed to wonderful descriptions of this couple’s retirement experiences having purchased a 22 acre property and becoming “farmers.” We used to own houses with land to maintain. Reading this book, however, confirmed the wisdom of my wife and my decision to focus on apartment living in retirement, in a brand new building in the center of a remarkable town where most everything we need or do is in walking distance. Life is simple and good for us this way, though I admire and encourage others in the paths they take.
November 7, 2024
A very niche book that hit me exactly where I needed it. The title is completely accurate - it’s full short and beautiful essays about discovering farm life and thinking about books. Thoroughly enjoyed reading slowly while looking out windows.
June 24, 2025
Kavros left Manhattan and his position of Dean at Columbia University for a new learning experience. He and his wife purchased and lived on a 22 acre farm that had fallen into disrepair. As Kavros cleans out a creek bed, cuts trees and branches with a chain saw, plants a thyme field to attract bees, raises Guinea and chickens, cleans the hen-house, and attends to his dogs; his minds takes him back to the literature that he read, digested, and taught over the years. His reflections, some only a couple of pages, some numerous pages, are all insightful and worthy of contemplation. His literary trained imagination and writing ennoble the quotidian nature of repetitive labor. I hope thoughtful farmers get a hold of this work. For those of us who toil in gardens, we too benefit from Kavros' talents.
July 6, 2025
The title caught my eye in a bookstore, and the first chapter convinced me to pick it up. The author moved from New York as a university dean to North Carolina to settle on a farm. So as the title suggests, he ties much of that work with his wide knowledge of literature. I found the first of the three parts the most interesting as he talked about the land. The other two parts (chickens and the South) were somewhat interesting. While he wrote well of his experiences and made solid connections to literature, I found most of the references obscure. In short: good potential of a book that might be more engaging for a different audience.
February 16, 2025
Arrogant Writer
I wanted to like it, but often felt like the author was stretching to tie a muse on farming to a literary passage of yore. Much of his writing felt more academic than personal. I wanted the author to better link his land /literary muse with a personal learning or take away.
I wanted to like it, but often felt like the author was stretching to tie a muse on farming to a literary passage of yore. Much of his writing felt more academic than personal. I wanted the author to better link his land /literary muse with a personal learning or take away.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews