I guess yes, I always have? I wanted to be the gatherer part of hunter-gatherer. As a kid, I would spend hours at the right time of year picking black raspberries. It was a reason to be out in wild land, places nobody was interested in (mainly beside railroad tracks or in empty lots), just, essentially, hanging out. Just wandering aimlessly and enjoyin the company of the world around me. And then I'd take my haul home and we'd eat it with whipped cream, and later on I started making jelly out of it.
There's a kind of profound laziness about it? Or childishness? I just want to sit in the lap of the world and have it provide for me without my doing a thing (beyond sauntering here and there, looking for stuff). No strife, no worries. I don't think I ever was so foolish as to believe that that was possible: after all, there are no berries for much of the year. And berries aren't very many calories. But in the moment, when I was deep in the raspberry canes, just picking, it felt exactly like that: like I was in the cupped hand of the universe, being given treats.
Maybe that was what prompted me to learn more: I want to know *all* the gifts that are laid out for us that we're just passing by.
In actuality, a lot of forage-able foods are not all that delicious or take a lot of work to get, or are not very plentiful, or are what the foraging books describe as a "nibble"--like, you can chew on this and it has a nice flavor, but it's not really a food. So now I restrict myself to things that just fling themselves in my face with their bounty (and that are pleasant to eat).
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Date: 2023-07-13 01:15 pm (UTC)I guess yes, I always have? I wanted to be the gatherer part of hunter-gatherer. As a kid, I would spend hours at the right time of year picking black raspberries. It was a reason to be out in wild land, places nobody was interested in (mainly beside railroad tracks or in empty lots), just, essentially, hanging out. Just wandering aimlessly and enjoyin the company of the world around me. And then I'd take my haul home and we'd eat it with whipped cream, and later on I started making jelly out of it.
There's a kind of profound laziness about it? Or childishness? I just want to sit in the lap of the world and have it provide for me without my doing a thing (beyond sauntering here and there, looking for stuff). No strife, no worries. I don't think I ever was so foolish as to believe that that was possible: after all, there are no berries for much of the year. And berries aren't very many calories. But in the moment, when I was deep in the raspberry canes, just picking, it felt exactly like that: like I was in the cupped hand of the universe, being given treats.
Maybe that was what prompted me to learn more: I want to know *all* the gifts that are laid out for us that we're just passing by.
In actuality, a lot of forage-able foods are not all that delicious or take a lot of work to get, or are not very plentiful, or are what the foraging books describe as a "nibble"--like, you can chew on this and it has a nice flavor, but it's not really a food. So now I restrict myself to things that just fling themselves in my face with their bounty (and that are pleasant to eat).