Love the Land

You need the proper soil to make a good plant grow. And the right setting to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

When I was still in school, I took a summer job to finance one of my first big travel adventures. You know, one of those “work half the school holiday and explore in the other half” types. My job was at a nursery. Well, actually, they mostly grew fruit trees. And roses. Have I ever mentioned how much I love roses?

So that was the great, sunny part. The shady part involved getting up at five in the morning, riding my bike for half an hour, and starting work at six. Not to mention working in the summer weather – either very hot or suddenly noisy and soaking wet. But we worked with the conditions rather than against them, which was one of the reasons we started a little early. And around eight thirty we had our first break.

So we sat together in that shed – me and about six or seven ladies from the neighborhood who had done this seasonal job for many summers before. Everybody got out the food packages they had prepared for themselves (my dad actually got up – on his vacation – and helped me with mine). And the chatter would begin. But if you are expecting the latest gossip here and there, you are absolutely wrong. These ladies – tough, but fair and hard workers – started discussing food. How to bake that fruitcake, season that stew, and create a Sunday feast for the next family anniversary. With great devotion to detail and passion for the craft, they would talk and talk, sharing their secrets of how to create real food. Food to make the most of what you have in the garden, food to look forward to after a long day’s work, food to prepare for people you have not seen in a long time. Food to come home to.

I just sat there, ate my sandwich and listened. It took some effort at first, because my co-workers were solid northern dialect speakers. But I managed. In fact, I did so well that after two weeks, my family was making fun of me because I had started to speak in that dialect as well. And in the end, besides all the back aches, sore muscles, numerous blisters, and an occasional sunburn, I finally had a breathtaking amount of money for my travel project (I’m exaggerating a bit here, I practically worked for peanuts).

Sometimes when I go to a park and see people out working on the grounds, tending to the bushes, trees and flowers, I think back to that breakfast shed and to our round of plant nurses. I suppose the little fruit plants and roses we worked on then have by this summer grown into tall trees full of juicy fruit and large bushes with gorgeous rose blossoms.

Well, growing deep roots takes time – and the right spaces. Just like a passion for good food.

Food to make the most of what you have in the garden, food to look forward to after a long day’s work, food to prepare for people you have not seen in a long time. Food to come home to.

Side Notes:

• The photo above was taken just after dawn. When the early sun touches the sleepy landscape under its blanket of summer haze with gentle strokes of light – like a painter’s brush. If you’ve never seen the lush dark fields and flowering wetlands of a moor, you should definitely go. It really is wonderful.