these gifts, without which you may
end up poisoning yourself as I did. In the past this art was communicated to us
through traditions passed down to us from our families.
Yet a third insight can be
mentioned here. Not only have most people never learned about the wonderful
things the Earth offers freely, but agencies within our culture actually cause
people to despise them. Lately I've heard more than one person's disparaging
words about Dandelions.
So, it seems that our culture has passed
through three doors on its way to alienating itself so thoroughly from Nature's
bounteousness.
The first door was losing the art
of taking advantage of what was given freely.
The second was forgetting that
there ever was something free in the first place.
The last was acquiring contempt for
those things not hyped on TV and in magazines.
Well, maybe one way to start the
journey back to the first door might be to go out and pick Dandelion leaves for
a nice salad, and eat them with proper ceremony and thankfulness. Or have some
nice buttery Pokeweed shoots.
Just remember to cook that poke,
though, and then throw the water away!
*****
DAYS OF PERFECTION
Let it be known that I am not one
to become so absorbed in nature's intricacies and minutia that I ignore the
broad, simple glories of perfect days arriving unannounced and unexpected. If
I'm engrossed in the wing venation of a wasp or the exact nature of a leaf's
margin, and it's an afternoon golden and balmy served up like a sweet apple on
a silver platter, I will reach for that apple.
The nights this
week have been glorious. A bright, waning moon and temperatures at dawn as low
as 48° (9°C) made for cozy, profound sleeping. Awakening as the first light
glowed in the east, sharp coldness sent me springing from the sleeping platform
right into my jogging shoes, and within moments I was running through ghostly
fog, water droplets coalescing in my beard. Every day this week friendly
breakfast fires provided mugs of steaming mint tea, and my skillet-size
cucumber "omelets" made with fresh dill and jalapeņos always baked to
a handsome brownness. I'd work in the garden as the sun burned off the fog, and
then on the Internet I'd find my tasks pleasing and fulfilling. Sometimes I'd
just wander around checking on seedlings, seeing whether the cuttings were
taking root, and making sure the potted plants were healthy. Balmy, late