Time

Its Sunday morning and I have just heard and then seen my first bumble bee of the year in the garden.   Hooray!   

The sun is warming the cloudy morning. My peas haven’t started to shoot yet.      My peas, planted two weeks ago, are my first step in my Victory Garden, my Budget Garden, my beginnings in permaculture.      My  Grandfather was a market gardener and he delivered the vegetables on a horse and cart.   He knew all about growing food.    My father was an university lecturer in art and pottery.  I remember he grew  a few vegetables in  a carefully prepared bed and as a small child,    I watched,  I learnt a little and now I am aware that in two generations, the knowledge has been lost.   I learnt very little about growing food from my Dad and my son has learnt nothing about from me.   But now I know that we need to go back in time, we need to know how to produce food for ourselves and we need to start doing it.  The world is changing. 

And it strikes me that our concept of time needs to change.    I have gone back to cooking from basic ingredients and I have started planting seeds and  it takes time to cook a meal from fresh ingredients three times a day, that pea shoots take time to emerge from the ground and I feel I never have enough time.  But when I slow down enough to enjoy the preparation, enjoy the  warm cooking aromas and enjoy stirring the pot, the pleasure is very great.  Being in the moment and enjoying it means the tight chains if time must be loosed.

In my lifetime, speed has been a gaol.  I think this time will be the crest of that wave, a blip in time and now we have to and are allowed to slow down.

I can only counsel my son; tell him my concerns; suggest he looks into it; hope he can relearn the knowledge his ancestors had.

My son, descendant of sailors and farmers.

My son, descendant of sailors and farmers.

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