Bravo, it is early fall where I live and although the one of my jasmine
bushes are still blooming I can tell the season nearly over. But I have fond
remembrances of my black raspberries straight from the canes and the
incredible ice cream my wife made from this first year of harvest. I never
dreamed that those three stunted canes I received from a departing friend
would fill the 3 meters of trellis I made two years ago. This year the
harvest from those scrawny starting was more than three kilos. I expect even
better results next year and have scavenged two brand new cuttings to give
to my father in law so his wife can remember better the taste from her
native country of Chile. Stay connected to the Earth. It«s wonderful.
Tom
-----Original Message-----
From: robert luis rabello
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Sent: 31/03/05 17:16
Subject: [Biofuel] Optimism
All this talk about oil depletion, climate change and pollution
seems
lost on the robins that are hopping around in my yard. My neighbors
don't seem to notice, but the robins stay on my property and simply
don't bother venturing anywhere else. Right now, there are about a
dozen of them hunting outside my window.
In between the rain storms, my sweetheart, my boys and I have
been
outside working our gardens. It's been a long, hard road, but our
soil is alive--it's literally crawling with arthropods, nematodes and
annelidas. My boys shout excitedly when they see evidence of
mycorrhizal fungi in our soil. They hack at Keith's beloved "deep
rooted herbs" with hoes and shovels, saying "die weeds!" with great
enthusiasm. Although I don't sanction attitudes of that nature, those
thoughts have crossed my mind as I dig out the maze of interconnected
horsetail roots that proliferate around my property.
Our trees are blossoming. The fruit bearing bushes responded
well to
heavy pruning in November. It looks like the pear we didn't think
would make it through another season is bravely putting out flowers,
while the Italian prunes and native aspens are growing at astonishing
speed. (They were seedlings two years ago, and now they're all taller
than I am!) My efforts last fall, digging compost around the trees,
appears to have spurred this wild growth. We will have lots of
apples. Our lonesome cherry seems far happier than it was at this
time last year. The only tree that isn't doing well is the dogwood in
my front yard.
Dump trucks rumble downhill, laden with dirt taken off of
someone
else's property, their jake brakes growling as tires kick up clouds of
dust. I shake my head, knowing that someone else will have to labor
to rebuild what the trucks are carting away, and all that soil ground
by their massive wheels will wash into the storm drains when the rains
return this afternoon. Some people call that progress. . .
My back hurts and my shoulders ache, but I feel very alive and
somehow better connected to the piece of land on which I live than is
the case with neighbors who are now convinced beyond doubt that there
is something terribly wrong with me! I smile and wave. Working in
the dirt has this magical way of inspiring contentment, despite oil
depletion, radical religious zealotry, climate change and the host of
other problems we face.
Everyone should have a garden!
robert luis rabello
"The Edge of Justice"
Adventure for Your Mind
http://www.authorhouse.com/BookStore/ItemDetail.aspx?bookid=9782>
Ranger Supercharger Project Page
http://www.members.shaw.ca/rabello/
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