Thanksgiving week marks the official end of the season for the Fort Story Community Garden. Andrea and I started this garden in 2020 and it has been a joy to watch it expand and grow over the last few years. Yesterday on our final group work day of 2023, we made bundles of homegrown garden herbs — rosemary, sage, oregano, and thyme — to deliver to on-base military families for their Thanksgiving cooking.
There’s something about harvesting your own food that really engages the mind and soul. On the Appalachian Trail I enjoyed foraging while hiking. In early spring I found ramps, nettles, and fiddleheads. In late spring mulberries and garlic mustard appeared. In the summer months I gathered berries of all sorts, as well as my absolute favorite thing to forage, Chicken of the Woods mushrooms.
What I foraged on the AT did not contribute a significant portion of my calories, but it did contribute greatly to my enjoyment of the trail. Looking for food gave my hiking a deeper sense of purpose and connection to the land.
While looking for Chicken of the Woods, for example, I saw the woods I was walking through in a whole different light. Knowing that Chicken of the Woods generally grows on rotting oak trees, I became more aware of what types of trees were around me. Without the focus of mushroom hunting, I may not have noticed. If I found myself walking through an oak forest, I would keep my head on a swivel looking for any rotting logs. Rain is always a bummer when hiking, but knowing that rain brings out the mushrooms, I was almost excited by a rainy day.
Since being home I’ve been doing a lot of inshore kayak fishing. Fall in Virginia is a great time to catch redfish, sea trout, flounder, and striped bass. The fish are active migrating and filling their bellies for winter. Learning to fish really connects me to the land in my home area. Not only have I become familiar with all the local inshore water, but I spend hours studying the tide cycles, the moon cycles, the weather patterns, and the water temperature — all of which have an impact on fish activity. I become aware of the subtle changes as the season begins to develop into winter. I’ve developed a strong appreciation for where I live that I wouldn’t have experienced without the hobby of fishing.
Fishing also is a reason to get out there. I’m on my kayak several days a week, but I probably wouldn’t be if I didn’t fish. Even though I don’t need fish for food (it would be much easier to pick up my meals from the grocery store), fishing gives a kayaking a sense of purpose, just as foraging gave hiking a sense of purpose.
In gardening too, food gives focus and purpose. Andrea and I were inspired to start the community garden project during the isolation of COVID. Like many others during this time, military families were in need of connection and meaningful work, to which gardening provided an answer. After three years of building, we now have an active community of fifteen families who grow food both for themselves and for their neighbors.
On the garden publicity materials, Andrea writes “Gardening is 10% plants and 90% community,” and it’s true. Vegetable gardening connects people to the land and seasons, but it goes much deeper than that. The surface reason we garden together is to grow food, but the real reason is to build relationships. Gardening is just the excuse, and the food is a luxurious bonus. What we are really growing is community.
At the garden yesterday, with baskets overflowing with an abundance of fresh herbs, I felt rich. I was excited to share the garden’s bounty with others. The local Girl Scouts volunteered to deliver the herbs around the neighborhood. One woman wrote to Andrea after and receiving her herbs and said “I’ve never cooked a turkey with fresh herbs before and I can’t wait to try it.” I know she is going to love it.
Whether by finding, hunting, or growing, food is a catalyst for appreciating our surroundings. Fresh food is special, but the true harvest is the connection that is built with nature and with each other.