Wild Onion Morning

Good morning, folks.

In that I mean it is a good morning for me. I hope it is for you as well.

This morning I woke up at 7:30. I usually try to be up by 5am, but I forgot to put the alarm back on last night. It’s Sunday, and you might think that I would choose to sleep in on Sunday, but often I wouldn’t. Not because I can’t, and not because I wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed every day, because believe me, that isn’t real either. No. I get up because I don’t allow myself to get out of the habit. Break that one, they fall like dominoes. And yet, this morning has been so good.

This morning, as I was waking up, Hubby mentioned the wild onions he dug yesterday. I had given them a good rinsing, but they still needed cleaning. If you’ve never cleaned wild onions, you should know it’s quite a process. There are several steps, and it takes the better part of an hour to do it well. I got them washed as well as I could, then filled the bowl containing the wild onions about halfway with water and sat down at the kitchen table. Hubby had gone to do other things, and I had much of this time to myself. My hands were constantly in and out of the water, so I couldn’t have played on my phone if I’d wanted to. After a few minutes, just being there, doing the repetitive motions with my hands that are required—pick up one to three little tiny bulbs, pull off the sheaths, pinch off the roots, and rinse the leaves, and repeat; I found my mind drifting into a meditative state. There are probably upwards of 100 in a trowelful.

Soon enough, I find myself thinking about nature, how deeply I feel my connection with the land. It’s something that has always been with me, even when I’ve tried to deny it. I think about the times that nature has sustained me. I think about poke salad, dock greens, morels, cattails, daylilies, and more, and the ways in which I can be self-sufficient. It calms me. All the stress of the last week or so, thinking about all the Covid-19 news and how frightened everyone must be just drifts back to a corner of my mind, and I feel so serene. In this place, at this time, we have a good life. The sun is rising, the rain has fallen, and the flowers that are blooming outside are just becoming visible in the morning light. We will have toast from homemade bread, eggs, and wild onions for breakfast. The roosters are crowing. They have no knowledge of the chaos in the stores or the on the news, and they are content to crow as they please. That’s when it hits me.

This is what I must find a way to share.

This peace.

I know that not everyone can go out in the yard and pick wild onions, or knows how and where to hunt morel mushrooms. But everyone can do something similar by finding something to do that takes time. Everyone can find one small act of self-sufficiency that they can do. Crochet, embroider, cook, bead, paint, build—just make something from scratch. In our busy lives (and I include myself here, let’s be real,) it’s so easy to fall into patterns of busy-ness where we don’t make time to learn or do things for ourselves. We rely on packaged meals and prepared foods being readily available. While we might not be able to grow toilet paper, we can grow food. Even in an apartment, a small space can be dedicated to food production with grow lights.

If we can do some small thing every day to care for ourselves, we can find peace in those moments. In the coming days, I will try to help my readers by offering up ideas for doing just that. I will be sharing my stories along the way, and doing what I can to help you stay creative, healthy, and connected.

I would love to hear from you! I’d love to hear your stories about how you’re living creatively in these challenging times. Drop me a comment, or hit me up on social media. Let’s thrive together.

Until next time,

Be well.

~D~

 

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