Over the years I’ve fallen in and out of the habit of updating readers on the beauty of my backyard garden. That’s mostly for reasons of time and technology but it’s led to a certain lack of focus on my little paradise, which it’s high time to correct.
Last night I was startled awake and couldn’t get back to sleep. All I could see in my mind’s eye was the image of the plantain plants that have grown so luxuriantly this year. I meditated on that a bit, and eventually I realized they were trying to send me a message: a message about home and health and healing and harvesting.
So today I harvested.
First the plantain, which I ate for breakfast, lightly sauteed in olive oil with a dash of balsamic vinegar and a splash of tamari. I saved some fresh leaves to make tea – I understand it’s good for the liver and creates an aversion to tobacco to boot.
A colander full of rhubarb was the next treat of the morning – this is the second crop from the backyard so far this year and there’s plenty more where that came from. Rhubarb muffins coming up.
And then the Saskatoons. Two years ago I rescued a little shrub from the local garden centre at the very end of the planting season and it has rewarded me happily and handsomely.
This spring the branches are literally bent down with the weight of the berries. It looks as though I will be savouring their summery flavour all through this coming week.
The thing about the backyard harvest is that it always feels like a surprise, and a gift. I mean, all I did was let this stuff grow. Time and rain and sunshine did the rest. Seems like my main role is just rubbing my belly and giving thanks for the bounty.