Looked Eye to Eye

Going Green, Going Local, Going Organic, Going Crazy, Going Around in Circles. I’m hearing and seeing these words and phrases more often it seems. To be honest I like these ideas. (well not the Going Crazy, and Going Around in Circles…those are just the funny counterpoints I thought would temper the tone of that opening sentence. Did it work?)
I’m going to lump those values into the grand category of “Going Sustainable.” As the verbiage suggests, we are not necessarily there yet, but we are “going” there. I use "sustainable" to define actions worthy and capable of being maintained for "a good long while." I think these trends and fads are worthwhile experiences. Why not “Go” in a different direction from time to time? You know, just to see if it works. I don’t mean to be political here, (I’m too hypocritical for that) but I do mean to lend a voice of experience, however minor my experience might be.

I‘ve raised a modest bed of vegetables for three years now. It’s a hobby, it’s an outdoor activity I enjoy, it brings good food to my table, and it brings me immense pride from time to time. Yes it also brings some back pain, sunburn, bug bites, dirty fingernails, occasional frustration, and it demands extra time when I don’t have it. But it seems to be working so far, so I plan to keep going. It makes me want to support those around me who are committing their lives to providing good food for us.

We drove north for 20 miles on Saturday to the rolling, tree lined pastures of Baldwin Family Farms. We do this periodically to restock on beef. Yes, in addition to my veggies, we like the taste of beef. We like it even better when we know how it is raised. On this visit, we met Mr. V. Mac who hand picked our chosen cuts. In the process, he described, with earnest pride and unpretentious confidence, the history and lives of his cattle…of our food. We thanked him. We trusted him. In a global economy, the producer-consumer relationship is seldom sealed with a handshake. Trust is rarely tangible. As we headed home, we stopped along the fenceline, and scanned the green acres… looked eye to eye with our sustenance.

Later that evening we cooked and shared a meal of local foods with close friends.
I hope to maintain these actions for a good, long while.

To Keep a Fresh Outlook

To get to our house you turn left onto a short dead end road. I do it every day. As soon as you make the left turn you’ll see our small house on the second lot on the right. The first lot on the right is woodland and creekland. Edging the road is a roughcut utility line where only fast growing vegetation can vegetate. Hidden beer bottles and Wendy’s cups get periodically pulverized by the county mowers. Occasionally, when the weather is just right, wildflowers rise above the mat. Some don’t need to rise to be seen; their brilliance shines.

Usually when I take the left turn, I’m thinking of home, of food, of taking my shoes off. Too often I’ll cut that corner tightly and then swerve oh-so-gently around an oncoming neighbor, quickly giving them a half-smile-sorry-nod. If I’m making that left turn on foot or bike, I’m usually sweatstained and muscleweary, with tunnel vision focused on the approaching front door. I’m not saying I never scan the ditches or gaze the treeline, but around the middle of each season the views tend to grow similar, less engaging.

On Saturday, Heather was driving and I was the passenger. We finished a long day of errands in a couple towns and were headed home. I didn’t have plans. I didn’t have hunger. I had air conditioning on and my seat reclined one notch beyond the usual. As we made that left hand turn, Heather took it at a reasonable pace (good job Heather!) which placed me closer to the right side of the road than I had been in awhile. Something caught my eye. I had to think about it for a few seconds before alerting Heather with an “Um, back up!” I guess I didn’t explain my reasoning. She shot me a “what now?” look though I could see the curiosity in her rolling eyes. She pulled into the driveway and then pulled back out, delivering me to my discovery. “Ohh” she said softly. I jumped out of the car into the melting afternoon heat and stumbled through the prickly underbrush. I just stood in awe over the exotic stranger. Unlike in the photo I took today, its petals were draped like a cloak. It was only warming up that first day. Presently it radiates.

I’ve been driving much slower now when I make that left turn. I’ve stopped at the corner every time since Saturday. Though the Dog Days are upon us, we need not grow stagnant. I owe much thanks to this Carolina Lily, for reminding me to keep a fresh outlook. Oh, yes, and a big thanks to Heather for driving.

Soak Up the Sun

I’ve been keeping a closer eye on a certain plant in the garden for several weeks now. It has been a game, really. The plant is a sunflower. As you likely know, it looks at the sun all day long. So, in amusement, I watch it to make sure it is looking at the sun. Occasionally I catch it glancing off to the side at the neighbor kids playing basketball.

It has been hot here lately, 90plus degrees with above average humidity. We have reached the point of the season where we look forward to cooler times. This week, in particular, the thermometers reached a consensus of about 98F on Wednesday. The tomatoes began to blush. I picked handfuls of the little ones. It was in the warm evening of that hot Wednesday when I noticed the sunflower was not watching the sunset. As I crouched down on the dirt, amidst the various fruiting vines, that giant sunflower loomed overhead, 12 feet into the sky. It had turned its back to the hot sun. Enough. It appeared to have its fill of sun. I agreed.

I assume the sunflower was reaching maturity, unfurling its yellow petals, signaling to the birds “I’m almost ready!” It no longer needed the direct light. It’s a short life. A butterfly drew close to that yellow bull’s-eye, encircled it 3 times and settled for a while.
I squinted up into that searing, setting sun and realized we are midway through our summer here. A hovering, backlit haze of translucent flitterbugs whirled through the yard. Dusty heartbeats. Brief.

Eat your warm veggies. Soak up the sun. Now’s your chance.

Garden Update 6

It's been about a month since the last Garden Update. Here's the partial summary. The vineheld veggies have come on strong. The corn was a disappointment...underformed ears on dwarfed stalks... I'll have to figure that one out. The beats were few but tasty in a marinade of garlic honey vinegar. Small potatoes have been dug and braised. Dill heads have burst open around the garden like low, sundappled fireworks. Pickle jars are filling up the fridge. 2nd plantings have started. Rains lately have blessed the bounty.

A Bejungled Blackwater

The sun burned down as I found my way to a bejungled blackwater off the shoulder of highway 17 downeast near Wilmington NC. It was a solitary sidetrip to a relaxing beachy weekend with Heather. As I continue to craft a wonder for locales both native and natural; ordinary yet offbeat, I pause to consider why I’m drawn to these places. It has something to do with not wanting to take things for granted. I don’t want to overlook the often-overlooked. I’m curious. Oh, and I’m cheap…so, for now, instead of flying to Belize, I wander to the edge of town for a sustainable sojourn. Occasionally I’m rewarded for these myopic tendencies.

Town Creek, like many of our southern blackwater streams, slides quietly through a dark bottomland of cypress and gum. This one feels the slight push and pull of the tides as it shares water with the Cape Fear River. I have only taken my canoe on one other such stream and I was then accompanied by 6 adventurous men. Now it was just me and my red canoe…and two competing emotions: awe and apprehension. The awe was focused on the lush greenery swaying below the waterline, and on the palmettos, water lilies, silvery fish schools, and a vibrantly golden Prothonotary Warbler. The apprehension intermittently reminded me that I was alone in a swamp, that hordes of yellow flies could descend on me at any time, and that those lily pads could easily conceal a hungry gator intent on bagging the rare solo canoeist. I scanned the mudflats casually for tracks and swatted only a few times at the annoying yellow fly. I sat often in the shade listening to exotic songbirds and recalling the tale of a lone orchid thief risking much worse conditions in a similar yet far distant swamp.

While it Lasted

Heather and I went to Little River Park for our Sunday morning walk. We hiked the Ridge Trail. The information board told us it would take us 4 hours. When we completed the trail and arrived back at the information kiosk, it had only been 1.5 hours. Huh?
You'd think we didn't stop and smell the roses (or in this case, watch the water) but we did. We also looked closely at beech trees, nodded to other hikers, sidestepped dogs on leashes, drank from our water bottle, and generally had a casual, yet purposeful, walk. Heck, we even sat down for awhile, see the picture! We weren't running for pete's sake.

Did we take a drastic short cut? Was the sign wrong? Did it intend 4 miles instead of 4 hours? Had it actually taken someone 4 hours to walk that same trail? Had the sign erred on the side of safe planning while trying to account for an average measure of outdoor human foot powered locomotion? Maybe the person that made the sign had gotten lost and said "Screw it, I'm not walking that trail again, it took me 4 hours."
Regardless of the logic of the sign, it got me thinking about its effect on people and its effect on the land. On a simple level, I thought Wow, I bet a lot of people look at that sign and take a different trail. That's funny, people really missed out on a beautifully simple path through the woods. This must be a relatively well preserved trail we just walked. Why DID we take it after reading the sign...WE didn't want to walk for 4 hours did we? And finally, I imagined a few adventurous folks were flustered to find themselves emerging from the woods so soon after entering.
Anyway, you get the point. I'm easily amused. We had a good time while it lasted.

Garden Update 5

Food is coming in daily now. Eating lettuce, squash, cukes, zuchini, green beans, choy.

Peas are done.

Coming soon: Beats (They will be pickled!)