Life on the Edge

A light drizzle fell throughout the day and even though some visiting surfers from interstate were complaining a little about the dreary, overcast sky, I was happy because it meant that the newly planted out tomatoes, spinach, lettuce and kale (snugly protected from possums in the wire mesh dome) would benefit immensely from this ground soaking rain. During the whole while that I was preparing the ground earlier in the week with fresh compost made from last years vegetable and fruit trimmings, turning it into the soil and planting out the seedlings, I couldn't help but sense some ancient rhythm within me keeping time as I participated in this gentle, repetitive yearly cycle of gardening. Donald Hall's "Ox Cart Man" published some 25 years ago in Kicking the Leaves, beautifully describes this cycle. Ox Cart Man In October of the year, he counts potatoes dug from the brown field, counting the seed, counting the cellar's portion out, and bags the rest on the cart's floor. He packs wool sheared in April, honey in combs, linen, leather tanned from deerhide, and vinegar in a barrel hooped by hand at the forge's fire. He walks by ox's head, ten days to Portsmouth Market, and sells potatoes, and the bag that carried potatoes, flaxseed, birch brooms, maple sugar, goose feathers, yarn. When the cart is empty he sells the cart. When the cart is sold he sells the ox, harness and yoke, and walks home, his pockets heavy with the year's coin for salt and taxes, and at home by fire's light in November cold stitches new harness for next year's ox in the barn, and carves the yoke, and saws planks building the cart again. Looking into the dome this afternoon to check on this year's new young plants, I wondered if I could ever totally accept the possibility that a contented life need be no more fanciful, no more exciting than this.

Several years ago, while in Helsinki, I read a Finnish health magazine (English translation) that suggested five foods be eaten daily to promote maximum health and longevity. These were: Apples, Carrots, Garlic, Lemons and Broccoli. On Wednesday of this week, I felt proud like a father with his new born child as I picked the first ever broccoli grown here at Windgrove. And doesn’t it look most delectable and packed with goodness, especially after a lip moistening drizzle had given way to a bit of evening sun lightly dusting the broccoli floret with a touch of buttery yellow. So, eat your broccoli, all you Greens out there reading this. And stay healthy. We tree lovers might not have the luxury of expensive spin doctors to look after us, but we do have organic apples, carrots, garlic, lemons and broccoli available. To paraphrase my hero Edward Abby again, author of “The Monkey Wrench Gang”, we environmental activists, ultimately, may not be able to stop the grey suited, double chinned politicians and business men from bulldozing down our ancient rain forests in the Styx Valley and the Tarkine, but we can, by eating well, at least out live the bastards; those Faustian thieves of oily, fatty handshakes and greasy ethics. They have supped with the devil so long they carry a lifetime of largess within their tailored clothes. Only their minders and tongue hanging fawners tell them they look good. Transparency and full dis-clothes-ure in government and business is important. We should all be willing to bare our assets and stand cheek to cheek with anyone from the Labor/Liberal party, Forestry Tasmania or Gunns. My bet is that our bottoms’s line is pretty firm and not propped up with false ergonomics. Eat well, enjoy life, carry on the good work and stand tall for the trees.

Even though Windgrove is most known for its Peace Garden, there is a small veggie garden consisting of two possum proof, chicken wired domes. Inside today's photo can be seen silver beet, spinach, tomatoes, snow peas, regular beets, and several types of lettuce. Despite strong winds and constant exposure to salt spray, everything is growing just fine. Two enthusiastic people from California, Ginny Evans and Tyson Atwell, stayed here for two weeks to get this garden happening. They were the first unofficial woofers (willing workers on organic farms) to stay at Windgrove. Living in the Peace Bus and joining in on the preparation of meals and swimming at Roaring Beach, it was a definite win-win for everyone.