Sustenance

I’m photoless on this one, so my apologies.

But, to tell the truth, it makes sense to not show you what I’m talking about because what I want to discuss is something we don’t really ever see directly.

In a word, I want to talk about soil. In a generality, I want to talk about nourishment.

Good soil is the foundation of a thriving garden, but building soil (I actually like to refer to this as ‘growing’ soil) takes time.  My current garden started out as overturned sod. A lightish orange color told me that I’d best haul in plenty of organic material.  Tenacious grass roots made gardening feel shallow both figuratively and literally.

That year, the plants themselves served a sacrificial rite as they sent out their roots.  This subterranean network, fragile at first, set in motion the framework needed for plots to come.  Building up, while digging down, aeration and transformation happens through channels never seen.  Over time, this continued interaction between plants, organisms, and the good earth creates a richer environment where nutrients are absorbed into the food to be eaten.  Magic happens.

Recently I’ve discovered this same magic above ground, but still coming from someplace invisible. A strange turn of events and an alarming diagnosis put my son in the hospital for a couple weeks. Initially, a few friends sent meals and stopped by to visit, as is customary in this sort of situation. Within days though, as the situation became more serious, a network emerged. A woman who came with her daughter to see us handed me a lasagna, hugged me, and then introduced herself. I liked that sequence: food, love, and then the formalities.  People around us set up systems where food and visitors came on a regular basis.  I don’t know who masterminded it all, but sitting down each night to fresh healthy food told me the god or goddess of community was watching over us. 

And the timing fit beautifully. My garden has been neglected in all of this, but the abundance of strawberries I missed found their way to us when word got out that my boy loves them. Garden greens appeared nightly when others learned my oldest starts each dinner with a big salad. Fresh from the garden, just not my garden, showed me how far this network reaches.  Time, interaction, kindness, and support creates nourishment for body and soul.  On the next go around I’ll be active in the network, perpetuating this invisible web not as a recipient, but as one who joins in to sustain the unseen foundation we thrive upon.