It hit me like a ton of bricks yesterday. I am not alone. I am not a crazy woman out in the yard with my kale seedlings, believing in something different from the rest of the world. I am connected. To history. To diverse cultures. To Australia and Germany and Michigan and Idaho and now, it seems, some new friends in Alaska (welcome!). And to every family everywhere that picks up a box of crops from a farmer, with nothing to regulate their relationship except a few dollars and trust.
When I came upon this pile of CSA boxes waiting to be recycled at the Oakhurst Community Garden the other day, I just stood there and looked at it for what seemed ages. Behind every one of those boxes is a person who left his or her job or home at a set time on a set day to pick up a box of crops unknown, and then brought them home to be part of his or her family's life. Each person worked his or her own culinary magic to include this bounty or asked a friend or neighbor, perhaps another box recipient, for advice. And each person sat down with thanks to the same farmer on the same piece of land in the same northwest corner of Georgia.
As I drove home last night in the dark, the cloudy, rainy sky of the past few days suddenly clearing to reveal a brilliant full moon, I thought of those boxes that I share locally, and then I thought of that moon that I share globally. How today farmers all over the world are taking advantage of the moon's gravitational pull and harvesting crops surging with nutrients. And sharing their bounty with each other. And proving, once again, that no, those of us committed to eating close to home around the world are not alone.
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2 comments:
I pick up my CSA box today. I also enjoy looking at the other boxes waiting to be picked up and thinking about the people they belong to. It is nice to feel that sense of connection.
It's a nice feeling to have that connection. Despite all the problems of the world, it brings a smile to your face and even a little skip to your step.
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