I really hate to get all gooey and girly and squeee here because it’s very embarassing and unbecoming but holy cow how much do I love Michael Pollan. I believe you have to be a subscriber to read it, but take a look at this article in the New York Times.
“Cook. And if you can, plant a garden. To take part in the intricate and endlessly interesting processes of providing for our sustenance is the surest way to escape the culture of fast food and the values implicit in it: that food should be cheap and easy; that food is fuel and not communion. The culture of the kitchen, as embodied in those enduring traditions we call cuisines, contains more wisdom about diet and health than you are apt to find in any nutrition journal or journalism. Plus, the food you grow yourself contributes to your health long before you sit down to eat it. So you might want to think about putting down this article now and picking up a spatula or hoe.”
I would so be out there right now doing that very thing if it were not the dead of winter. The indoor plants are great and all… I had a nice session this morning bathing the orchids and epiphytes… soaking in the smell of wet bark and sand. But I’m really missing that time spent outdoors in the gardens picking dead foliage, and rubbing fragrant leaves and flowers between my fingers. I have never missed the growing season as much as I do right now. It’s like an ache inside that I am only really experiencing for the first time. I am actually tearing up just thinking about it. Wow am I ever a sap.
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