Rooted in the seasonal turn.

Our winter rye harvest was a collaborative promise planted in late autumn by Claire and Tiana, nurtured through nine months of Hudson Valley freeze and spring thaws, and reaped by hand alongside Sage under the midsummer sun.

From dormant winter shoots to golden sheaves and wild sourdough starters, the land reminds us that everything has its season. We don't just grow grain; we grow a relationship with time.

A pavilion that breathes with the seasons.

Hand-built by Clara He, Henry Chung, and a village of friends, our lakeside Tea Pavilion by (Un)build Project has now weathered both autumn leaves and winter snow. A testament to the reciprocal relationship between humans and the spaces we inhabit.

A luminous archive of the seasons.

During her stay at An And, artist-in-residence Gloria Fan Duan collected late-autumn Mugwort, Oak seeds, and winter Hydrangea, meticulously encasing the fleeting life of our 170-acre landscape in resin. Whether suspended on hand-blown glass stalks or pinned within a velvet and birch shadowbox, her Hybrid series serves as a beautiful bridge between the ephemeral cycles of the forest and the enduring nature of artistic observation.

Fermenting time, sowing rhythm.

As our first guest pastry chef for the Chef Residency soft-launch, Tiana brought the soulful craft of sourdough to Wassaic. Between the quiet rhythm of rising dough and sowing winter rye in the fields, we experienced the profound connection between the kitchen and the soil. We can’t wait to see Tiana’s seeds grow in the coming season. 

From seeds to sourdough.

Last autumn, we collaborated with Tiana to sow winter rye at An And. What started as a nervous experiment in our home farm turned into the warm scent of fresh bread in the kitchen. A beautiful prelude to our upcoming Chef Residency.

The art of waiting.

Our 2025 harvest was a collaborative gift planted in spring by Echo and Yiyao, and reaped by all who visited us this fall. From radishes to Napa cabbage, the land reminds us that everything has its season. We don't just grow food; we grow a relationship with time.