When I cup seeds in the palm of my hand — be they basil seeds the size of pinheads or crimson-splashed lima beans — and really take the time to examine them, I lose myself. It’s hard to explain, and harder to articulate. The secrets they hold; their hereditary resilience; their unlimited potential.
Is there any living thing out there that doesn’t thrive on the benefits of ginger and turmeric? In the garden the plants play host to a profusion of birds, bees, and wasps … the last of which I discovered through its blinding sting while picking the scented white flowers of our galangal, a Siamese ginger.
Elephants, in sets of three, lumbered into my consciousness last Friday.
Here in the Zambezi Valley where the parched winter days are slowly desiccating the leaves and grasses; where bush fires are randomly lit in the hope of speeding up the succulent shoots of grass; where the lack of food induces the migration of wild animals looking for greener pastures, it’s elephant time.
Here in Livingstone we seldom have really cold days in our short winter. Early mornings are chilly, especially on our slab under the Mongongo tree where there are no doors and few windows.
I’ve returned to Bluemont, Virginia to put my 1827 stone Colonial house on the market. When I left Zambia 12 days ago I hadn’t considered selling; I was coming back to supervise a changeover of tenants.
I’ve been busy opening a new food production and services company called SavannaBel – Bush Gourmet here in Livingstone, and my first customer happens to be The Elephant Café. 🙂 In celebration of this milestone, I am reposting a short piece I wrote a couple of years ago on how the seasonal garden produce and wild food inspire my recipe development.
