As We Grow

It was a cool, damp evening as I stepped out from my kitchen into the backyard, barefoot, to snip some herbs.  The moon’s gorgeous crescent seemed like a cockeyed smile while I pattered across the moist grass with flashlight in hand. The tomatoes, herbs, and peppers are planted among the portulaca, zinnia, and purple sage so it is a bit of a search party to find the edible plants after sunset. The slim flashlight handle wound up in my mouth (blaaach!) as the spotlight so I could see what I was picking. The simple harvest created a little bit of magic as I looked at the uncomplicated garden bed and was tickled that I could still pluck some produce in mid-October.  With basil, sage and rosemary in hand, I snagged a few nasturtiums to top off a salad and turned my back on the garden marveling at the sweet simplicity of it all.



The next morning in the sun’s full light, however, I noticed how tired and scruffy the garden looked.  It said to me “You’ve really let things go here and after all we’ve given you!” The lettuce has long since bolted with no re-seeding done, the basil is blackened in spots, the tomato branches still bearing fruit look like a jumble of dancers' limbs overlapping on a ballet bar.  And the zinnias so tall and erect in August are still blooming but in a weighted, horizontal recline.  This autumn garden was much sexier by flashlight. 

The Mina Ohana

It did make me appreciate those who do not lose garden interest; those who do not wane when the sun’s presence diminishes from our autumnal days.  About 5,000 miles away one of my brothers connects to the land and the life it gives him every day.  He is an organic sprout farmer on magical Maui.  Before you get a vision of acres and acres of tropical land bearing a fine harvest, picture a modest one story single family home on a small plot of land (7,000 sq. ft.) that includes a 1,200 sq. ft. shade house which does bear a mighty fine harvest. His farm produces around 260 pounds of several organic sprout varieties per week.  This family farm has been growing healthy greens for sixteen years.  As kids, we lived in a Delaware County rowhouse with a postage stamp front yard in which my brother was the ‘head farmer,' planting lettuce and, perhaps, tomatoes each summer.  He did not know then that he was also planting the seeds of his interest in organic farming. His Maui endeavors are the result of his sheer will, infectious enthusiasm and the persistent listening to the vibrations in his soul.  His wife, son and daughter’s dedication to this ‘family farm’ rounds out their success story. 

Since 2001, he has organized and sponsored a “Body and Soil Conference” in Hawaii that merges how one feeds the other and what we can do to make this dependent relationship between our body and the soil the healthiest it can be. The collection of speakers and their topics reveal the profoundly diverse nature of farming and its impact on health.  Photos and information about past conferences can be found on the Maui Aloha ‘Aina website: http://www.mauialohaaina.org/  I thought about my brother’s farm that night in the garden and silently breathed in our shared, albeit distinctively different, agricultural experiences. 

On a much more local level, it is interesting to see our school district, Great Valley, get dirt under its collective fingernails with the creation in 2009 of a one acre plot dedicated to growing vegetables and herbs on the grounds of an elementary school.  Students plant seedlings and, along with community volunteers and school staff, tend the land.  The harvest is part of the school food service menu planning and kids see what garden foods make it to the lunch line each week. In addition, two retired teachers are the Farmer’s Market ‘veggie ladies’ and stroll the lunch room in the middle and high schools twice monthly and butler huge trays filled with items such as butternut squash pizza, made from the homegrown produce.  So many things are being served with this clever, hands-on farming – kids get a full circle look at food being grown, harvested and prepared in the place dedicated to learning. This front row seat to farming nurtures the whole student.    Philadelphia Inquirer staff writer, Dan Hardy, notes in his recent article about Great Valley, “The aim is to get children interested in growing and eating healthy food and to educate them about its nutritional benefits.” http://www.philly.com/philly/home/gardening/20101012_Great_Valley_schools_make_healthy_food_fun.html

Even in cities blighted by job loss and a decimated tax base, the common thread of food production persists in stubborn fortitude. Christine Muhlke, food editor of the New York Times Magazine cites Detroit as one of the strongest examples of a food community she has seen.  “In a neighborhood that is a true food desert — there are no national chain grocery stores within city limits; more than 90 percent of food providers are places like convenience and liquor stores — I watched young men and old women socialize while picking collard greens in abandoned lots brought back to life by the Urban Farming organization. There was no fence, no supervision, no charge. ” She sees this doggedness as the basis for a prolific food community – people making the source of their body’s energy a primary focus. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/10/magazine/10FOB-WWLN-t.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=growing%20together%20how%20the%20food%20movement%20jumped%20the%20plate&st=cse\

Whether food is produced on an Hawaiian organic sprout farm, from an acre tract at a Chester County elementary school, or from the ashes of a city searching for its communal soul, the relationship between the body and soil is inextricably woven.  We are what we eat.  So, with flashlight in hand, I head out back to my meek garden, tend to it with more thought, appreciating the modest bounty with profound gratitude.