Recently, my 19-year-old—a lovely girl with a fierce independent streak—came into the room where I was working with a single purpose. “Mom,” she said seriously, “I just wanted to thank you for wanting to have a butterfly sanctuary in the garden.”
It was not what I expected her to say. Apparently, she had just had one of those surreal moments with multiple monarch butterflies flitting about and it had filled her with such joy that she had to express gratitude.
Mind you, my garden has long been a singular effort. Through the years, my children have participated in lots of weeding and some harvest, but the work has never been willingly shared nor enjoyed. And yet, despite her past disdain for the work, in that single moment I might have just watched my child become a future gardener.
I am reminded of yet another of the garden’s metaphors for life: Many beautiful moments can come from years of diligent and sometimes unrewarding work. As I am the epitome of the lazy gardener (trust me: I have brown-thumbed many a potted plant), this understanding roots in me the motivation to do the work that needs to be done, both in the garden and in life.
Mary Maranville of Students for Eco-Education & Agriculture (SEEAG) said to me recently, “It feels like the whole year [during the pandemic] has been on pause and suddenly someone hit the play button.”
“Yes!” I replied. “But now we are in fast-forward mode!”
There have definitely been moments over the past few months when I have felt like I just couldn’t catch my breath; I’m positive I am not alone in that. But it is in those overwhelming times that I must dig deep and connect to my roots, to find those things that keep me grounded and steady when it feels like the world is speeding up around me.
When I first thought of this issue’s theme, “Roots,” I had hoped we would be able to explore beyond those sweet and savory root vegetables (but check out page 13 for those too) and hit on that idea of being rooted, and maybe even what is rooted in us. And dear reader, I think we did it! We explore traditions (roots) with a scrapbook of turkey ideas (page 22) and Carlos of Bonito Coffee (page 34); fear of cooking (rooted in us) with a fun look into Dad’s spaghetti on page 32; and passions and deep values about the earth (we are rooted in) in a story about Ojai’s C.R.E.W. (page 29).
I hope that as you explore these pages, you can also explore your own roots. Maybe you’ll even find that your hard work has already produced the right environment for the butterflies to play.
