It is an artifact of the land … It carries the imprint of the earth from which it came … It is never just a thing to put in your mouth. It’s a living piece of geography. – Brad Kessler, Goat Song
During our time living in Europe, I wrote about how our children were naturally drawn to places of worship for reflection, prayer, and giving thanks. They entered every church we passed, whether it be the grandest cathedral or a mountain hut with a cross. They would sit, close their eyes, and come fully into the moment they were in with the grace of the structures around them.
Something similar happened shortly after arriving on the organic farm where we are house sitting in Nelson, New Zealand. There is something sacred about the ritual of harvesting and preparing ones own food that commands a presence around the table that transcends the act of eating. As we savored each bite slowly, we felt nourished in a new way, both in awe of what nature is capable of producing as well as proud of how we worked together to bring it into this moment on our borrowed table.
I haven’t asked the kids to eat their vegetables since we arrived. I haven’t asked them to help in the garden. I haven’t asked them to clear the table or peel the potatoes. They just move in purposeful, helpful ways because they know the work is meaningful and the rewards are infinite.
The food has been so beautiful that before every meal, someone says, “I have to take a picture of that before you eat it!” It has nothing to do with our cooking prowess or presentation skills. It is all about the raw and natural beauty of farm fresh. This entry is an effort to try to capture this remarkable landscape, in this far away land, for any who may be curious …
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