The pronounced cry of a Red-shoulder hawk forces my gaze to the sky. He swoops low over the farm, checking in on the day's breakfast options. He settles atop the "R" building and continues his keen search. He observes me as I steadily observe him in admiration. He has become webbed into the City farm life; it's expected to see his shadow and hear his exclaiming presence on a daily basis.
As you walk up a flight of stairs from the "C" street parking lot, you are captivated by a symphony of maize, squash and pole beans. These beans incessantly climb bamboo pyramids in worship of the sun. As you listen past the beans, you can hear the rustle of squash blossoms ascending high over the amaranth as if to peek through to beg, "here's my tendril, nice to meet you!" The sunflowers make you squint in awe, for their smiles are too bright and too genuine to believe. Their conversations are engaging and humbling.
Many creatures, big and small, are taking refuge in this jeweled oasis. In the middle of a concrete jungle, where our landscapes are constructed of rigid building tops, asphalt rivers and mechanical food dispensers, this small oasis is refreshing, quenching, replenishing and revitalizing.
The number of insect species grows every day. Bees harvesting pollen, Chinese beetle excursions, predator-fly huntings, butterfly wars and dragonfly races leave in the air dusty purple traces. Caterpillars and grasshoppers share salads for lunch.
The herb beds invite you to kneel and touch the soil. Micro-organisms add life to the earth and strengthen our crops.
Can we say that one of our blessings is freedom? Freedom to touch the earth and cultivate it? Freedom to plant seed and water it? Freedom to harvest our love and sweat? Freedom to taste and savor our food? Freedom to gain vitality from the plant's "blood?"
In a distant land, not safe to mention by name, drought has created famine. Wheat, which normally feeds the dwellers, can not grow. Okra and melons will not grow. A farmer falls to his knees in despair and takes in anguish out on dried okra stems. It rained twice this year. He must find a place and dig a well to water the government's farm. His wheat is more lucrative than poppy. Poppy can not nourish him or his family.
On Haiti, mud cakes of clay, salt and shortening, "feed" the starved and "supplement" pregnant women. Malnourishment is a plague. The land is being brutally eroded across many parts of this earth.
Melamine in milk powder, for baby formula, has created kidney stones in babies across China.
In our own city, there are many families who are food insecure. Not knowing when or what your next meal will be.
What would you do if placed in any of these scenarios?
Conscientious mind frame, conscientious living, conscientious action. We are in desperate need of an Agricultural Revolution!
Again, we can ask: can we say that one of our blessings is Freedom? Freedom to touch the earth and cultivate it? Freedom to plant seed and water it? Freedom to harvest our love and sweat? Freedom to taste and savor our food? Freedom to gain vitality from the plant's "blood?"
Come and soak up the Vitamin D. Come and breathe the free air that the hawk and the dragonfly share. Come and touch the soil that nourishes you. Come and share the sun-rays that turn into chlorophyll. Come and embrace your freedom with passion. Come and take part of this crucial knowledge: foundation for survival.
"We need to get up, get out and do something, go change something, go be something, or else we'll fall for nothing." -j. grea
