Kwait
By Leonardo Occhipinti
Kwait is a farmer that lives on the outskirts
of the great city with his cat, Singapur.
He dedicates his life to agriculture.
Today he went out early with his pouch
filled with seeds.
He sows, then waters and waits
for the fruits granted by Mother Earth.
Little well, seed, water and the day is done.
The seeds are beneath the black earth
and it’s time to rest.
Kwait es un granjero que vive en las afueras
de la gran ciudad con su gato Singapur.
Le dedica su vida a la agricultura.
Hoy salió temprano con su bolso
cargado de semillas.
Siembra, luego riega y espera
los frutos que otorga madre tierra.
Pocito, semilla, agua y pasó el día.
Las semillas están bajo la tierra negra
y a descansar.
Small Joys
By Rosemary Burkholder
The morning sun caresses my face and I realize I have
graciously been given another day. I welcome it as I stretch,
breathe and awaken my soul. The darkness of night which
gave me rest has dissipated and we are off to a new
adventure.
A rich cup of black coffee and a generous slice of AP Cake
brings back the vision of Mother pulling several of
those cakes from the oven to break the fast of her brood.
This sustenance will be sufficient both physically and
mentally to get me on my way.
I lace up my hiking boots, grab my daypack, peek inside and
verify a liter of water, buck knife, empty plastic shopping
bags and any other essentials that could be needed. It is
early May and the day is quite young as I fetch my hiking
stick from the Jeep prior to heading down the steep, gravel
driveway.
One of my favorite hiking trails is a half mile from my back
door. It leads to a dilapidated homestead once owned by the
Fisher Family, hence the name of the creek that runs through
the property.
I tread quietly with hopes of seeing some wildlife. My
heart beating strongly, resonating in my head rhythmically
with the deep breaths of mountain air satisfying my lungs.
The choir of various birds beautifully welcoming the day as
their song echoes through the canyon, as though they
had been practicing all night, adds to my awareness of their
presence.
It’s an uphill climb to where I veer off to the right and
slither down a ravine to where a spring enters the creek.
Here in a swift flowing stream grows the watercress that I
covet both Spring and Fall. It spans the creek for a distance
as far as my eye can see prior to going around a corner or
cascading to a lower level. Shaded by cottonwood and
surrounded by moss covered rock, it is as wild and pristine
that one might discover.
I drop my pack, grab the knife and a few bags as I eye the
stream to locate the best of the best. I machete handfuls, at
times walking directly in the stream with my waterproof boots
filling my bag. I’m alone, it’s my patch as I rarely see any
other evidence of harvesting besides wildlife, potentially
consuming some bites as well. My heart is joyful, bags full as
I head back the trail toward home, still serenaded by the
birds finishing their morning conversations.
Back in my kitchen I rapidly sort through my gift from nature,
plucking the center shoot and any other attractive stems. I fill
the sink with cool fresh water, swish and strain several times
to eliminate any water creatures that I may have displaced from their
life in paradise.
The vibrant greens are placed in the fridge to rest and refresh.
The farmhouse style recipe that I will use tonight has me
envisioning Mother’s working kitchen. In a small cast iron
skillet she would render small cut pieces of bacon. When
crispy and brown, the excess fat would be drained off.
Medium diced onion and minced garlic would be added and
gently cooked until translucent and aromatic. Remove the
pan from the heat, add a generous amount of dry mustard, a
splash of cider vinegar and equal amounts of sour cream
and mayo, enough to lightly coat the greens.
Season with salt, pepper,
sugar if needed and gently toss to distribute the dressing.
Grated hard cooked, free-range eggs would garnish this dish
served at room temperature.
I have dressed these greens in many fashions, but my
preference still returns to this as a favorite, one that always
was served for Easter dinner to celebrate the arrival of
Springtime. This esoteric method of production brings me
great joy and satisfaction. With every bite the nourishment
from the harvest in the wild, fulfills my soul.
I celebrate small joys as this, for they accumulate and bring
greater joys to this Journey of Life. For without Joy, I cannot
imagine existence.
HAIKUS:
The Between Time
In the silent space
Between moon-set and sunrise
The birds start to sing.
Jampa
Vapor Caves
Steps into darkness
Hot air enveloping you
Oh god, this is hot
Jason Richter
(Provigil)