One of my most important considerations when developing recipes in the Upper Zambezi Valley is the weather. For nine months of the year it’s hot, with October being the hottest month of all.
When Annabel first asked me to come with her to do Ayahuasca I had never heard of plant medicine and my reaction was one of scepticism tinged with fear of the unknown, and of making myself vulnerable.
This blogpost comes with a warning: it’s a long read, it’s about psychoactive plant medicine, and it isn’t for everyone.
The wonder of a garden
Trusting the first warmth of spring
Until its black infinity of cells
Becomes charged with dream;
Then the silent, slow nurture
Of the seed’s self, coaxing it
To trust the act of death.
The meaning of marriage begins in the giving of words. So said Wendell Berry, one of the wisest users of words I’ve ever read, who also happens to be a farmer, like Chris.
My friend, Louise, claims that the first sentence she heard me utter was when I asked my mother if she’d ever tasted the wax in her ears.