Wordless Wednesday

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THE GRATITUDE FACTOR

murmurings from the circle in the forest

An unexpected cold front has triggered my fall instincts to hunt and gather, and prepare my nest for the coming of winter. Never mind that it is only the latter part of August with several weeks of summer left. The gray squirrels are poking fallen acorns into the ground, and I am packing the freezer with this year’s bounty of corn, peaches, tomatoes and green beans.

I drove to the Farmer’s Market because that is the place to buy the great Garden State vegetables these days: Red tomatoes, creamy-golden corn, fresh garlic and onions and shiny onyx eggplants that we used to buy from the neighbor’s homemade stands, leaving payment in a cardboard cigar box. Since canning is a long and arduous process requiring quart jars, screw-top lids, great boiling kettles with wire racks, not to mention hours of sweating in the kitchen, I chose the quicker (and easier) freezer method. I boiled corn on the cob, and then sliced off the kernals into plastic bags. Peeled pounds of sweet peaches and sliced them into bags, each one holding enough for a pie (to be baked during snow storms).

There is something soul-satisfying about this work. Like kneading bread dough, a little of my life energy is added to the food. Ready-made dinners cannot match this gift. They feed the body only. Nourishment is one-dimensional. We are not involved with our food. We did not plant it, water it, weed it, protect it, pick it or prepare it. Having a relationship with your food affects its taste. I call it the Gratitude Factor.

I have a small backyard garden. When I pour a bag of silky seeds into my hand and push each one into the earth that I have tilled, amended, fertilized and mounded into beds, it seems crazy to expect food to come out of it. It feels senseless to pour water on dirt. It’s not reasonable. But it never disappoints. The seeds sprout from their underground secrets. It thrills me each time a timid yellow-green curl breaks through, sometimes balancing the seed casing on its head like a sport cap. I feel proud, like I’ve just given birth. In a few weeks, their leaves unfurl and their mission becomes clear: Make more of themselves. As they slip into production, I intervene, picking beans, peas, tomatoes, squash in their turn and use them to feed my own kind. Human beings have the same mission as a vegetable, only the green beans have not yet learned how to fight.

The vegetables pile up in my harvesting basket, a bounty from my own back yard. I thank each plant for its miracle. They are often consumed on the same day, so the flavors of green and gratitude leave me with a sense of fulfillment that just doesn’t come from opening a can.

Overheard

The neighbors and I were lying on blankets on my front lawn watching the Perseids meteor shower. On the mountain, we have no streetlights so it is pitch black. We were pointing out constellations to each other and we could even see the Milky Way. These are snippets of overheard conversation in the darkness.

“If you see a falling star, you have to make a wish.”

“The best way to cook corn is to use the microware. You do not husk it or anything. Just pop it in the mic for 7 minutes and voila. It is the best ever. You know the silk is the life blood of the kernel.”

“Look at that one!”

“Edamame is the Japanese word for soybean.”

“You used a snow shovel to move the snapping turtle from the road?.”

“Ohhh, long tail on that one. Crap, I was looking the other way.”

“No, no Katydids are green and look like grasshoppers. They are not the same as cicadas."

"Look, look it's a satellite."

“I almost got poked in the eye by an angry hummingbird when I went to close to the feeder to water my flowers.”

“Has anyone see the new baby recently?”

“There goes one.”

“Honey, you have to look up at the stars to see anything.”

"Are you cold? Want me to get another blanket?"

“The dew point must have been early. The grass is sopping.”

"The Big Dipper is called that because years ago they used to dip water from a barrel with a long handled cup called a dipper. Can you see the long handle and the cup on the end?"

“Are you going to the farmer’s market tomorrow?”

"I made up the recipe. I stuffed the poblano peppers with a picadillo and made a chipotle sauce to bake them in."

“I have been all over Flickr looking for that photo. What did you call it again?”

I heard that if you rub a Bounce dryer sheet on you the mosquitoes won’t bite. Hmmm, I heard it was a Downy sheet. Or maybe that was for ticks."”

“Will this be happening again tomorrow?”

Yes, same time, same place.