A Gift, A Celebration

There is something in the way the wind catches the leaves—something about how the sun falls on the tall yellow grasses and they glow, almost as if the energy of the sun is captured momentarily and turned back toward the world, rippling in the breeze like liquid gold. It is a gift, and it is not for me alone.

Forgive me while I wax poetic, but every once in a while, I have a moment in the outdoors that reminds me of all it is that I have come to know (or at least think I know). On a recent October morning, having taken the day off, I put on my jacket and enjoyed my hot breakfast out in the autumn sunshine. Sitting there, sipping my coffee, something struck me. I think it was the beauty that is always occuring in the right now. So I struck out, to walk around the field that is my back yard. Up until that point, I had been unsure whether or not we would regret the decision to move into a country home. But that morning I remembered why I was there. It’s been so long since the sun has touched me like that. Somewhere deep inside of me, something was stirring. I’m waking up.

We moved here for various reasons, a big one for me being that we would finally be able to grow a large garden and live off of the fruits of our labour. I’m a farmer. It’s in my blood. And this summer, as a member of a local CSA, I was reminded of how pleasurable it is to be nourished by, and connected to, the earth under my feet. I had forgotten, in the 7 years since I left the farm, how much that meant to me. I haven’t lived in a place where I could be alone in the wind and the sun for a long time. I feel as if I have come home again.

To date, this blog has been about cooking. But I think it will go deeper than that. For me, cooking is a celebration of the earth and the nourishment that it provides. I think that is what this blog will come to be—a way to share that celebration with you.