26
The farmhouse was rustic and spacious, the others were already hard at work with various tasks of food preparation, this was the most streamlined farm-to-table operation in existence. Sitting along the wall was a stove identical to the one at camp, turns out they’d donated their backup to the cause. And because Miles had recently begun honing his own grilling chops, he was volunteered to put on the chef’s hat and give their hosts a night off.
It was just the two of them out here, for now. Travelers came and went by the season, sneaking in chocolate and wild caught meat, leaving with packs full of dried fruit and dirty fingernails. It was a constantly evolving hub of transient energy, which powered the entire growing season, each visitor paying forward the abundance as they tended to some future meal on the farm.
“It’s way too much land for just us,” calculated Doodle, over the runny flavors of this beet and egg creation that Miles made up, which was fantastic by the way. “It wants to nourish so many more, plus it’s a lot of work. But we have fifty or sixty travelers come through here every year, at least, sometimes for months, once we even had thirty-three people out here at the same time.
Sure makes the harvest a lot easier, and helps us to share our bounty with the rest of the Earth. And getting to share it with you guys just means the world to us, it really does. Out there putting your ass on the line so that people like us can continue to exist, I can’t thank you folks enough for everything you’re doing.”
“Well I can try,” offered Annie. “May I present the one and only Butternut Breadpie Delicioso.”
“Consider us thanked,” accepted Selam
”It smells like a dream,” Tiana hummed. “When could you have possibly had time to make that?”
“Oh, you know,” she flexed her nonchalance. “Somewhere between spreading manure and washing my hands.”
“I knew I recognized that taste,” Doodle played along. “Must be from old Sweet Pea next door.”
“Only the best for such a noble gathering of heroics,” she applauded.
“Still tastes like Tiana’s dream, as far as I can tell,” said Bill.
“What does that even mean?” Tiana demanded.
“I don’t know, you tell me, you’re the one dreaming about a bunch of bullshit.”
“Oh suck an egg. And I’d go get you one myself if I wasn’t glued to this pie thing. This is so delicious Annie.”
“Isn’t it? This other Water Protector that stayed here for a while made it up. We got him to invent a new butternut dish every night for a month, he was a pretty cool guy, huh Doodoo?”
“Doodoo?!” cried Selam. “That’s so great.”
“Miles has a new nickname too,” outed Tiana.
“What?” led Annie. “Captain Sweet Potato and the Honky Tonk Parade?”
“Yes, that’s a keeper,” collected Bill.
“Ooh, can I keep him?” she asked with a hint of sincerity.
“Hands off sister,” defended Selam. “We got big plans for this one.”
Miles was intrigued.
“Well, then can I at least take him on a moonlit parade through the orchard?”
Still intrigued.
“I’ll permit it this time,” allowed Selam. “Just as long as there’s no honky tonky out there.”
“Full circle with this one, huh?” grumbled Miles.
“Oh, this one’s not going anywhere,” Selam broke the news. “At least not until you earn another one.”
“I’ll pass.”
“The HonkyTonk Kid it is.”
“C’mon HonkyDory, let’s blow this squash stand, we got some perfume to make. Later suckers.”
“Later suckers,” Miles concluded with the satisfaction of the last laugh.
“They only mess with you because they love you, you know?”
“I know, and I only pretend to let it bother me because I love them.”
“Aha, so you are a secret agent underneath all those layers, I knew it.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yep. Wonder what I’d find if I kept peeling?”
“Probably a clove of garlic breath.”
“Ooh, my favorite. May need some of that for our perfume later. Do you know how to climb a tree?”
“It’s been a while, bout like riding a bike though, itn’t?”
“Same. Same.”
“Good, just tell me when to start peddling.”
“And you’re a comic as well,” she shed another layer. “See if you can get up to that big limb, it’s got a perfect view of that beautiful full moon. If you can’t make it, I’ll just yell down to you about how pretty it is up there.”
“I’ll be there to see for myself,” committed Miles, as he pondered the significance of yet another moon with Annie. It’s complicated.
“We use the moon to know when to plant everything around here. Like the sweet potatoes, the ground is most receptive to root veggies when she’s big and full like this one. And then other stuff wants to get started when she’s new.”
Miles knew all about that one.
“Farmers still know how to follow the natural cycles of the Earth, but they’re completely clueless of how food is really supposed to work. It’s all about the efficiency of stripping the most resource from the land possible, when it should be about sowing yourself into the soil and creating a tightly woven network of nutrition.
Like the corn, beans and squash down there. The farm store tells them to plant individual rows with plenty of room for a tractor, and to add nitrogen to the corn, and to string up the beans, and gonna need tons of sprinklers to overcome evaporation, and definitely pour on some poison, and to shop local. But we do it just like the natives did before all that stuff.
The Three Sisters want to live together, they thrive off of each other’s company. Sounds like a bunch of gibberish if you’re not an Indian or a hippie, but like with most ancient indigenous knowledge, science is finally catching up to realize that they don’t know what the hell they’re doing. In our community garden, the corn provides support for the beans, the beans pour nitrogen back into the soil, and then the squash provide ground cover, which inhibits weed growth and evaporation, now ain’t that some kind of cosmic coincidence?”
Miles remembered the cooperation of competitive sports.
“You could never reap it all by machine, but I believe in singing with my seeds and handpicking my harvest anyway, it just feels better that way, and the food can feel it too, and then you get to feel it all over again when you eat.”
“So do you have a bunch of permaculture going on here?”
“Well look at you mister permaculture, so you do know a thing or two about regenerative agriculture.”
“Just learned about it actually.”
“You still get another gold star in my book.”
“How many do I need to cash ‘em in?”
“I’d say three’s probably a good start. Yeah, we’ve got a bunch of self-sustained systems that will keep functioning even without our guidance. And without a yearly investment, the food forest here will continue to bloom long after the collapse shuts down the grocery.”
“Which collapse was this?”
“Either one of them,” she spoke as if the date were already saved. “Ecological catastrophe, economic crash, disease outbreak, water scarcity, failing electric grid, EMPs, alien invasion, zombies. They’re all related, symptoms of a sick and swollen population, and we’re only tipping the iceberg. It’s all part of the same consequence of the mainstream way of life, the one where the world insists on consuming itself as they pretend that everything’s gonna be just fine.”
“This does seem like the perfect place to survive any of those scenarios.”
“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “Sure hope it happens while we have a whole farm full, or they at least know to come here afterwards, it does tend to get a little lonely out here sometimes.”
Miles wondered if he detected some kind of something, or maybe it was just the butternuts.
“I mean, I love what we have going on here, the swirl of energies that come together to create such an incredible celebration of life, and I’m talking about some of the most amazing people, like you guys, you know? And there’s always lots to keep us busy, but sometimes we go a month without seeing anyone but ourselves, which is rewarding in its own right, but once you’ve felt the magic of community, it’s hard to really compare.
And even within that, everybody’s so spectacular, but you only end up really connecting on like a chemistry kinda level with the occasional passerby, and it’s magical, but it was never meant to last. So it’s totally refreshing when someone cool comes along to talk about books, and climb trees, and fall in love and stuff.”
Miles nearly slipped off the branch.
“I don’t mean you fella,” she relieved. “I just mean in general, two out of three ain’t bad though. I’ve had my share of heartbreaks out here, they don’t mean for it to hurt, but you get attached and it sucks when it’s time to leave. And I can’t go with, because I need to help Doodle. He’d tell me to follow my heart, but he’s getting too old to do it all by himself, plus my heart’s right here anyway.
My dream though, is to have a more permanent community, still the flow of travelers, but with a stable base of core family members out here year round. Then I can fall in love with whoever I want, and if we want to leave, I’ll know that the farm is in good hands.”
“That sounds like the right idea,” lifted Miles, as he found himself captivated by the glimmer of the moon. “You know, I spent a bit of time off-grid with some really cool folks, building this Earthbag house, the first of many out there, and hopefully a community will blossom there like what you’re talking about. Then I go to camp, where that community is already happening, and it shows me that there truly is a better way to live than out in that other world.
And now I’m here, yet another element of that utopian vision, each stop showing me a glimpse of paradise and inspiring me to keep collecting the pieces. Just imagine a dirthouse village of Water Protectors tending your food forest, I can see it all when I close my eyes, and it feels that if I try hard enough, I can almost dream it into existence.
And I’ve been learning about that love stuff too, a little bit anyway. About how to really appreciate someone without expectation, about how your capacity for love grows the more you use it, how those heart connections aren’t restricted to the space between you, and how the heart is capable of many emotions at once, not limited to one contractually obligated partner.
So with all that in mind, I’d try not to focus on the heartache side of it all. A love was created in you both, yours didn’t leave you just because they did, and they’re out there sharing that beautiful gift with the world, and through love we’re gonna heal the Earth, so how can you really be sad about all that other stuff?
I’ve been lonely before too, big time, it sucks, but I’m starting to think that maybe we meet the people we’re supposed to meet when we do, because maybe we’re not ready to meet those next people yet. So I’d be willing to bet that once you’re ready to meet that person, you will.
And I learned about really being with someone, not in another world dreaming of some other Annie, but really there in a heart kinda way. No push for more, no worry of some future time, just how to really relish every drop of each moment together, as you unwrap each little page of the present”
“Um...” she whispered with enamored approval. “I think you just earned that last gold star.”