So, Green Mountain Girl, was that a raptor feather? Certainly big enough - that would be some hawk. In fact, it is a peacock feather, from the wing rather than the tail. Surprising, eh?
This summer we have been tending to our allotment as usual, but it has been far from a usual summer. We had a cold and wet spring, but once our onion sets were in the ground all rain ceased. Onions need moisture to start them into life; many of ours failed to start at all. Weeks turned into months and still no rain. Eventually, any which had begun to grow turned over their tops and dried out. We harvested them, the poorest crop we have ever had.
One of the biggest shifts of modern living has been the move away from dependence on seasonal produce. There is the expectation of constant variety in our diet, even if we choose to ignore it. But when you grow your own crops on an allotment it brings it home to you that year on year seasons vary. One year the sweetcorn will crop in abundance, the next there will be a few wizened cobs.
Last year, for example, we planted courgette seeds as usual, alongside pumpkins. While the squashes rampaged across our new plot, drowning out all opposition and producing spectacular fruit, only one courgette made it to maturity and cropped poorly. This year six courgettes are growing vigorously, despite the drought. You can guess what is coming.
This week I have given courgettes to three people from my knitting group, a friend, a neighbour and two people from my volunteering job. That's a lot of courgettes, but still they keep coming. I've made soup to freeze down, I've chopped them into salads... I've still got a bagful.
Imagine an earlier time before freezers existed. Essentially, your diet would have depended on what was in season and plentiful that year. Presumably this would have built on the staple of bread or potatoes - or rice or yams if those were the local crops. Maybe a glut of courgettes would have been a welcome change.
This summer we have been tending to our allotment as usual, but it has been far from a usual summer. We had a cold and wet spring, but once our onion sets were in the ground all rain ceased. Onions need moisture to start them into life; many of ours failed to start at all. Weeks turned into months and still no rain. Eventually, any which had begun to grow turned over their tops and dried out. We harvested them, the poorest crop we have ever had.
One of the biggest shifts of modern living has been the move away from dependence on seasonal produce. There is the expectation of constant variety in our diet, even if we choose to ignore it. But when you grow your own crops on an allotment it brings it home to you that year on year seasons vary. One year the sweetcorn will crop in abundance, the next there will be a few wizened cobs.
Last year, for example, we planted courgette seeds as usual, alongside pumpkins. While the squashes rampaged across our new plot, drowning out all opposition and producing spectacular fruit, only one courgette made it to maturity and cropped poorly. This year six courgettes are growing vigorously, despite the drought. You can guess what is coming.
This week I have given courgettes to three people from my knitting group, a friend, a neighbour and two people from my volunteering job. That's a lot of courgettes, but still they keep coming. I've made soup to freeze down, I've chopped them into salads... I've still got a bagful.
Imagine an earlier time before freezers existed. Essentially, your diet would have depended on what was in season and plentiful that year. Presumably this would have built on the staple of bread or potatoes - or rice or yams if those were the local crops. Maybe a glut of courgettes would have been a welcome change.
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2 comments:
A peacock feather! I would never have guessed that. Never in a million years. But then I don't think we have many peacocks in Vermont. You wouldn't find a feather from one just lying around.
I think a lot about seasonal eating, too. I get most of my produce from a farm near me, and grow some in the garden too. With me it's less about glut (depending of course on what I have in the garden) and more about what's not available when it's not in season, unless it's frozen. Great joy when the first greens are available in the spring! I had three meals of asparagus this year, all from friends' gardens. Nothing else tastes like that. It makes the grocery store asparagus quite unappealing.
A friend of my daughter grew up in a tiny rural community in remote central Canada, called Oxdrift; describing it, she once told us "It's a VERY small place--you never lock your car when you park it, for example..." Then she added, ruefully, "...except during a courgette glut." Because of course you will probably find your car full of vegetables on your return.
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