The Farmer and the Falling Stars

A farmer looking up at the stars beyond his wheat field and home

In a quiet valley surrounded by sun-soaked hills, lived a humble & hardworking farmer named Elias. For a long as he could remember, Elias tended to his land. No matter how hard the calluses on his hands, or how much hope in his heart, his harvests remained poor. The tired soil yielded wheat that was too thin & vegetables too small to sell.

As dusk settled at the end of his working day, Elias would sit on a wooden bench outside his modest cottage and look up to the sky. He would wait for falling stars and whisper his wishes to them. “Please,” he’d murmur, “let next season be better.”.

On one star, Elias would dream of carving a new stream through the hills, delivering new water to refresh his land. On the next star he could visualise fields of grape vines and other high yielding crops, growing and producing profits by the truckload.

When those stars streaked across the sky, he’d close his eyes, convinced that the heavens might just hear him this time…

Over time, Elias tried every solution he could think of to make the farm profitable. He changed his seeds and the crops he tried to grow. He bought new tools and mimicked techniques from neighbouring farmers. He watered more, then less. He planted early, then late. Nothing ever seemed to work. His land stayed weary, and so did he.

“It must be bad luck,” he sighed. “Maybe I need more stars.”

One day, a quiet traveller arrived in the valley. Stopping by Elias’s field, the traveller watched him work for a while, and then said gently:

“Your land looks tired.”

Elias wiped sweat from his brow. “It is. I’ve done everything I can think of. I’ve wished on every star I’ve ever seen.”

The traveller tilted his head. “Have you tried asking the soil?”

Elias blinked. “Asking… the soil?”

The traveller smiled. “You’ve looked up for answers, but the truth might be beneath your feet.”

Then, without another word, he tipped his hat and walked on.

That night, Elias didn’t look up. Instead, he knelt in his field. He dug deep with his hands. He picked up clumps of earth and crumbled them in his fingers examining how dry and lifeless it seemed.

The next day, he sought out the oldest farmer in the village and asked about soil health and crop rotation. He spoke with a beekeeper about the winds. He observed where the sun hit hardest and where the shadows lingered longest.

He noticed that his soil had grown hard with salt from too much water and no rest. That his wheat drained the earth of nutrients without giving anything back. That his tools, though shiny and new, did nothing to heal the land.

And so, Elias took a pause from farming all his land all the time. He sowed clover and beans instead of crops in some fields. He took in green waste and manure from his neighbour’s farms, composted and returned it to the ground. He turned the soil gently, not aggressively. He gave it time to breathe.

As winter arrived, Elias looked back at his land. Sitting on his bench and looking up at the cold night sky he saw a falling star. This time though he did not wish, instead he hoped on the soil that next year’s harvest would be better.

The next season, he planted again. Less than before, and more carefully.

The wheat grew thicker. The vegetables stronger. The soil, once dry and brittle, smelled rich and alive.

The villagers noticed. “What changed?” they asked.

Elias smiled. “I stopped asking the stars. I started asking the earth.”

In time, Elias’ work continued to pay dividends. Plentiful crops came when he took a step back and listened first to the land.

No longer just the man who wished into the sky, Elias became a mentor in the village. He taught others to test their soil, To look for underlying causes and pay attention to foundational work. Having a dream of your final state is grand, knowing how to get there is even grander.

In the world of product, we often get stuck moving forward on superficial fixes or worse, on things that do not represent value at all. Think of how many times you have been asked to implement something under the guise of 'parity', or 'customer retention risk'...

It might be one of the hardest parts of our role but it is imperative that we ask the right questions and deliver the best value. This often requires us to look beneath the surface.