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Category: Reflections
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The Joy of Winter Greens
Nothing dispels the gloom of a dark, cloudy winter day, than sprigs of fresh greens. During summer there are so many greens to eat, I feel like a cow grazing on thick pasture. But in the middle of winter, the few greens that manage to grow in the unheated hoop house are a welcome treasure. If I close my eyes and nibble on them, the sullen winter skies turn a brilliant summer blue.
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Food Just Is
Grow a variety of food, and you begin to realize that food just is. Like the air, it’s all around us. You don’t stop and think where you are going to get your next breath of air. You don’t go shopping for it. Everywhere you walk, air is all around you, and no one is charging you for it.
For most of life on earth, food is like air. It’s just there. An earthworm digging its way through the earth finds things to eat everywhere. Herons don’t go shopping for food. They go from pond to pond, field to field, finding food everywhere.
The handful of garlic I’m chopping for dinner is like that. I have a basket full of garlic left over from all the garlic I pulled this summer. It didn’t cost me a penny. It didn’t even take a lot of time and effort. Garlic is as alive as you are. Stick a clove of garlic in the ground in the fall, and next summer, you’ll have a full bulb of it.
Most of the garlic I harvested this summer, I ended up planting, but there is plenty left over to last until next summer. It’s that way with the chicken and eggs. They aren’t things to buy. They are just things that are there. The same with all the various greens in their season.
For most of humanity, food is no longer something that just is. You can grow very little food in a small apartment on the 35th floor of a tower. Most people now live in cities so dense and vast, it’s inconceivable for them to imagine living surrounded by food growing for the taking. It’s something that you have to buy, something you have to work for. It’s become the product of some company, stuff that comes wrapped in plastic, packaged in boxes or cans, it’s no longer something that is part of your surrounding environment like air.
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Swans Celebrating
It’s a brilliant end to the year, and the swans are celebrating already. I stopped by a flock on my way home from an errand today. There were hundreds in this flock, and I passed other flocks on my short errand. They are constantly talking, but about what? These are exuberant birds. If you play the audio below, you’ll get an idea what it’s like to observe them.
I feel very lucky to live where the swans visit every winter. With their long voyages, they must have plenty to talk about. One day we’ll be able to point our smart phones at them and get instantaneous translations of what they are saying. And we’ll be able to talk into our phones and out will come a stream of honks the swans will comprehend.
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Woody 1999~2014
Often when a year ends and a new one begins, other than the dates on the calendar changing, there’s very little to mark the change. This year, for us, there are many endings and beginnings. Yesterday evening, marked another ending. Woody, our dear friend for fifteen years, passed away peacefully, lying comfortably between us on the couch.
He was always such a cheerful companion. He spent many hours in the evening, snuggled between my legs when I relaxed on the couch. It’s hard to imagine life without him. His health started to deteriorate this summer, and these last few weeks, he weakened so much, that we scheduled our veterinarian to come on Monday for a final farewell. But he went on his own, with our hands comforting him.
Woody was a great companion for his sister, Winnie, until she suddenly died nine years ago, and after that, he was Rusty’s best friend and playmate.
After saying our goodbyes, we wrapped him in one of his blankets, and let him spend the night on one of his favorite chairs by the wood stove. During the winter, he loved lying in front of the warm wood stove, or on the chair next to it. This morning we buried him in the garden, next to his sister. In a few months, his grave will be surrounded by beautiful flowers, and we’ll fondly remember our dear friend each time we walk by.
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Summer Skies in Winter
The skies yesterday were like mid summer, billowy white clouds against an azure sky. The swans were as happy as could be. I had to stop and listen to them. When they get together in groups, they have so much to talk about. Maybe if I spent a year with them, listening to them day and night, then maybe, I might understand what they are saying. Whatever it is, they can’t wrap up their conversation in a few minutes. It takes them hours to speak their minds.
Posture must have a lot of meaning. Sometimes they talk with their heads held high, other times they twist their neck downward and talk low to the ground. Then there’s the head bobbing thing they do. There’s so many subtle movements they make with their heads and necks, half of what a swan says, may be with their head and neck movements, not their trumpet calls.
And with swans flying in and out of the group, there’s always new company to tell the story all over again. In reality, the swans most likely fly from field to field looking for good things to eat. But, just maybe, the reason they fly from field to field is because they get bored with the conversation in one field, and fly off to mingle with another group, hoping to hear something more interesting.
It makes you wonder if swans ever get close to landing, but see some blowhard swan they can’t stand, and keep on flying to avoid having to listen that swan again.
