We had a lovely soaking rain today, after a week of hot, dry weather. All of us were tired this afternoon, but we managed to get ourselves out the door and into the backyard to do a bit of gardening. I'm so glad we did. The gentle light of the sun through the clouds, the warmth of the damp earth radiating up. Everything so green and lush and full of life. The broccoli and kale especially are flourishing right now. The leaves are chewed through (in some places quite thoroughly) by cabbage worms, but the plants are big and strong and well nourished enough to withstand the onslaught, and we help some by picking off the worms we can find and presenting them to the chickens.
The soil itself is teeming with life--as we dug holes to plant tomatoes and marigolds, we saw earthworms, centipedes, millipedes, sow bugs, slugs, and countless tiny critters racing about. If we'd had a microscope I'm sure we would have seen microbes galore, working away to transform organic matter and minerals into forms usable by plant roots--nourishing the plants, and the plants, in turn, nourishing us. Granted, some of this life competes with us for the same food source, but when kept in balance, there's food enough for all.
On my way home from work the other day, I heard a
story on NPR about the commercial strawberry business and was surprised by the complexity, cost, and many toxic substances necessary to get berries from a California field to the tables of families across America. I felt especially sad about the fumigation of fields prior to planting, to create a sterile growing medium, thus protecting the plants from fungal diseases. In the process, all living things (including people) in the surrounding area are exposed to toxic substances that compromise health and life. It's not just the fungus that suffers.
It may be that practices like this are necessary to grow crops successfully on such a giant scale. I don't know. But it certainly makes me want to work toward growing more of our own food on a micro scale, where we can use practices that help restore health and balance to living things, including ourselves. Shouldn't food, and the process of growing that food, nourish life rather than poison it?