What I love most about growing our own food is the stories it tells. There is something so inspiring and comforting about the cyclical nature of it, which has completely changed the way I think about our planet and even about death. Take the story of this glass bead gem corn for example: I grew it from seed in February, set it outside in May and harvested it between August and October.
In summer we boiled, grilled and canned it, and in the fall we dried it and turned it into popcorn and set aside some of the seeds for next year. In addition, I picked out the most beautiful ears and proudly decorated our house with it. Now, with the changing season, the fall decorations become chicken food, much to the chickens’ delight. Come March, when it is time to clean the coop, the bedding including the digested corn will be composted and turned into beautiful, rich nutrition for the next generation of corn, which I will grow from the dried kernels I collected in the fall.
In a way, everything, including us, lives on forever. As our bodies decompose, we provide the base and nutrition for new life, while our DNA lives on in our children, their children, etc. and our stories are remembered by people whose lives we have touched. We may not know why we are here, but perhaps our purpose is to carry on and remember the great story of life itself.