I don’t know about you out there walking around on different parts of the Earth, but Riceboro, Georgia just got hot. We playfully spent Spring maintaining low humidity, cool breezes, and an abundance of rain and then suddenly, humidity hit, the breeze slowed, and the thickness of the Deep South settled accross the Low Country. Doesn’t make you want to do much more than eat watermelons and shell Crowder Peas in the shade. We finally recovered from all the soppy marsh soil we’d been managing for the two weeks of rain, and the farmer and the farm are still a bit behind, but we all seem to be trimming up nicely. The vibrant colors of summer articulate the landscape like paintings and our Okra plants are sharing with us their brilliant blooms, a deep blood red surrounded by a hue that seems to dance on the rainbow between the colors green and yellow.
Our meals hum with intensity as we feast on Hot Peppers, Fresh Tomatoes, flavor oozing Okra, and whatever delicious meat we picked up from the farmers market on Saturday. Something about the summer makes us feel alive, like all the colors on our plates bring out all the colors in ourselves. The struggle of Summer in the South is one of a Southern Farmer’s greatest lessons. Summer brings heat from the sun, lack of rain, and thick humidity resting on your shoulders. All of this love and loss, effort and strife for sliced tomatoes and delicious homemade Mexican feasts. A Farmer in the South is probably a lot like farmers all over the place, but it does seem true that anyone farming down at the bottom of our Nation has a dedication to a strong back and a good tomato sandwich.
The wilds of the internet have given me a window into the farming lives of people from all parts of this Nation and the diversity in season and the variation in seed choices is enough to bring hope to any struggling thinker. The idea that so many people are sharing the important task of bringing real food to their community is something that brings me my second wind on a Friday afternoon when there is still a list of things to do and a temperature that has more than 2 digits. Knowing that dedicated customers support these brave people fighting to make a difference in a world that is not ready to change is what motivates me to get up at 4:45 AM every Saturday and put on my best, “I swear I am in a great mood and of course I want to set up the Market Booth!” smile. Saturdays are long days, but every single person that tells me a new recipe or asks me if my food is “Organic” is a reminder that people want to be good to each other and good to this world we share.
The truth is, we’ve got a rocky road ahead of us. Our food administration is hell bent on protecting anyone with enough money to cushion the immediate impact of their actions. Discount factors are high among humans and trapping our poorest brothers and sisters in the nutrient desert that is convenient, cheap fast food is not an empowered system and is a laughable evolutionary miss step. Forgetting how to take care of each other is how money has made us feel powerless. We have a world here, and it can be anything at all that we want it to be, we just have to settle for a little more sun on our skins and a little less sugar and empty nutrients.
Sometimes I am overcome with worry, but tonight, tonight I am in awe of you warriors out there bringing life to our communities and kindling for our souls. I am immensely grateful for such constant inspiration from people I have met who are promoting a healthy food system through their daily actions. I feel absolutely fulfilled when I see a tired Mother bringing her beautiful children to Market every Saturday to pick out the food they will eat that week. Getting to see these young, future fate holders of our planet eat a tomato right from the table or get excited about Okra is enough to put a permanent smile on my face. As I skim through the pictures of Farms growing everything from corn to kale, from tomatoes to turnips, I am less at odds with everything. I fight less for the cynical side of my mind and root more for the power of the individual, for the strength of the masses.