For the last number of years Abbie and I have become more involved in growing, harvesting, and preserving our own food – or food that family or friends have grown. We had chickens in our backyard in Cincinnati that through some miracle consistently turned our food scraps we would feed them into delicious eggs. But when we put our Cincinnati house on the market we hid our coop in a neighboring garage and planted grass seed over our garden. Didn’t want to scare off any potential buyers.
This year has been one long transition, and we’re on the home stretch. We’re doing work on the house this week, packing up belongings from Cincinnati on Friday, and moving in here on Saturday. The pre-occupation with the details of the transition have put me totally out of touch with the growing season this summer. A few days ago my mom brought me some freshly picked blueberries and I said ‘Oh, I guess it’s blueberry season.’ Lettuce and cucumbers and other veggies from gardens are showing up in meals and I’m thinking, ‘Oh yeah, these things are growing right now.’
Transitions are hard work, and it’s completely refreshing to think that out there, in God’s green earth, things are growing without any effort of my own. Seeds have been planted, the sun is shining, the rain is falling, and growth happens. And it tastes really good.
I’m looking forward to getting settled enough to be able to get back in rhythm with the gifts of the seasons, but for now it’s a beautiful thing to marvel that even if I’m completely oblivious to it, the earth keeps turning, the seasons keep unfolding, the earth produces wealth, and we are sustained, despite ourselves.