While more tweaking, editting and reshuffling goes on I like to take a wee break midweek to just write a tiny poem. I have dubbed the series as HumpDay Haiku. Although some weeks they might technically be a tanka, senryu, or a micropoem. I have written many haiku, most of which would probably not pass muster with the haiku shoguns, but they give me joy. So I keep trying, hoping that one day I will, like Basho, have that transcendental moment when the frog leaps into the pond.
Incidentally, we are seeing signs of spring though the wind blows and the rain falls from the sky relentlessly. This past weekend I saw a frog hop down our lane. Fortunately, we don’t have a lot of traffic. With so much water around I suspect that we shall be tadpole central shortly. They are welcome to take up residence and keep the slug population under control. I just sowed some early lettuce last week as a good companion to the broad beans. My fondness for broad beans is not so much about their taste as the gorgeous deep purple flowers they sport. It has encouraged me to embrace them as indigenous plant protein that can have its flavour enhanced with a certain culinary imagination.
One can only hope that there is a break in the precipitation so we can set the early potatoes we bought last Sunday, along with some onions and shallots. Would that everyone had a little piece of land where they could grow their own vegetables organically. It would make for much more food security in the world. But we humans have clustered in cities this past century. But even urban spaces can create community gardens and can share wholesome food with those least able to afford them. Gardeners are generous folk and like to share. What corner of this earth could do without more spontaneous gestures of kindness?
In an age when you can get blackberries in the freezer year round, or flown in from Argentina in winter, its little wonder that youngsters (oh, I am sounding so OLD!) have no grasp of what foods are in season locally. We are so reliant on global markets one wonders if COVID-19 will wake us up to the value of providing for ourselves locally and in season. Or, at the very least, appreciate how spoiled for choice we are in winter with imported fruits and vegetables. This time of year was considered the hungry gap by our ancestors. It was why there was such feverish preserving and canning done in August and September, for that time of year when a fruit or vegetable was not to be had otherwise.
But I digress. On for the latest HumpDay Haiku!