Bones, Seeds, and the Land

And the comfort of their promises

One of my favorite places to walk in the woods is Backbone State Park in Iowa.  The good earth opens up, showing its bones in places - thus making it a difficult place for humans to till and plant.  Often, when I walk there, I contemplate why it is that the land has to be this way for us to leave it alone enough for us to enjoy its natural beauty. 

That’s why I appreciate those who advocate for a more personal connection with the land.  When we cultivate that connection, we find that we don’t need deep crevices or steep bluffs to have permission to let an area be what it is without extreme human alterations.  There are ways we can live that will let the land be what it is just as there are ways to allow different people to be… different… without a need for justification, alteration, or interference.

Unfortunately, for many of us, the recent election in the United States feels like we have been stripped of our flesh and left in a land with no redeeming qualities. And that’s not necessarily because of the real issues that were supposedly being measured, because I feel there may be valuable ideas (or parts of ideas) to be had on all sides. It has more to do with the way it was done. With meanness. With threats. With lies. With an aim towards obscuring those real issues. With an intent to demonize those who are different, have fewer choices, less power and more challenges in their lives. And all of this led by a person who has demonstrated a life (even before entering politics) that I would never point to others as an example we should follow. A man who thinks mocking and belittling others is the best way to place himself above them.

And so I, along with many others, stand under dark and troubled skies, with clouds boiling and a chill wind blowing. There is no shelter and there is nothing obvious we can look at to find our hope.

It seems that we often need places and times where the bare bones of our lives are exposed and we are forced to re-assess who we are, where we should be, what we should be doing, and how we will get to the next thing we are supposed to get to. We have to go looking for purpose and hope. And the search itself reminds us that not everything is a barren field with nothing but corn stubble. There are still places of wilderness and beauty - both in the world and in our lives.

And there are still so many people who seek to do beautiful, wonderful, caring, and thoughtful things. But, like some of Iowa’s beautiful places - or those wonderful places in your own heart - you have to make some effort to find them, appreciate them and encourage them.

These people just are who they are. They don’t typically scream and shout for your attention. “Look at me! I did this nice, kind thing!” In fact, they often shy away from it - preferring to have the space and freedom to do more beautiful, wonderful, caring, and thoughtful things. And maybe, just maybe, there is some of that sort of person in each of us. Something beautiful. Something that truly cares. But it is hard to find that something when we let all of the noisy, self-absorbed, shallow parts of the world around us turn over most of the ground in our lives - ripping down the trees, draining all the wetlands and making our souls as barren as our cornfields when Winter approaches.

But, I believe the beauty and the wonder is still there. And I know we can encourage it to grow and become stronger.

It’s like the trees in the forest that have lost their leaves. They too are showing their bones and it is tempting to believe that everything is bleak, dark, and hopeless. The previous year’s growth has faded and the season of visible and obvious life is coming to a close. But, we know that, even in Winter, there is still life in the forest and a promise of a green future under the fallen leaves and under the snow.

As human beings, I think we often make a big deal out of beginnings and endings without really thinking about why they are worth that sort of attention.  The edges of our days at the farm often provide us with reminders that are worth pondering.

A sunset like the one above tells me that there can be beauty in transition.  The light plays off of the clouds and changes hues as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon.  The shadows reach out to touch me and it makes me wonder, and even worry, about what’s next.  Even though there is uncertainty and, perhaps, feelings of loss as the old day leaves, there is still wonder.  And joy.  And blessings of the world as it moves from thing to thing.

There is a new chance to do better. Another opportunity to improve. Another sunrise that could lead to an apology that should have been made or a task that should have been done. A new moment to learn new things and to recognize why people are hurting and to find compassionate ways to address the worry and pain. Redemption is always possible on the other side of times such as these.

I hope that we can all look for the beauty as we move ourselves from place to place, from thing to thing, and from this task to the next. Let’s work to find the promise we feel in our bones and then act on it to redeem ourselves in times of transition.

While we did not do this during this year’s growing season, we have grown heirloom peppers for their seed.  The idea is that we start enough plants so we can select those that show the best traits for future generations of that variety of pepper.  Then, we harvest the fruit from those plants, pull out the seeds, clean, and then dry them. The peppers shown above come from seed we have harvested.

I, personally, enjoy growing peppers about as much as any vegetable.  The plants are attractive, they respond well to our care, and the rewards are fairly obvious - especially if you like peppers. I, personally, cannot eat many peppers as my body has set limits on that. But that doesn’t stop me from doing (and enjoying) the work, even though most of the fruit will be consumed by others.

The yellow bell is a variety called Quadrato asti Giallo. The fruit in this picture is actually a very nice sized pepper that would look good on any farmers’ market stand (in my opinion). And, we both agree the taste of these peppers is excellent. The larger bell pepper is Napoleon Sweet. We also feel the taste of this bell pepper is exceptional (but different from Quadrato). It can put out very large bell peppers that are sometimes thin and long. While the Quadratos are fairly uniform in shape, nearly always having four similar sized chambers, the Napoleons have much more variety in shape.

The trend in commercial growing is to seek out hybrids that produce uniformly shaped, blocky, thick-walled peppers that store and ship well. Taste is almost an afterthought. But that misses the joy of diversity in shape, texture, and taste that exists in the world. It’s out there! We just have to keep looking for it, appreciating it when we find it - and then nurturing it so others can experience it too.

Then we can reject the commercial trend where every pepper is the same and every acre of land should be made to look the same. We can learn to accept that people don’t need to fit a mold or match our interests and ideals to be acceptable. It isn’t easy. But the most worthwhile things require effort.

The bones, seeds and the land tell us the effort is worth it. And you are worth it.

You, too, are a caretaker that seeks to produce something beautiful, worthwhile and beneficial for the world around us.  I wish you the best as you continue to select the seeds for your life that make your world - our world - a kinder, more understanding, and increasingly diverse place.