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Here we offer a sample from The Garlic Press issue: #47 - page
2.
Out of My Head
by Bob Dunkel
The journey of garlic exceeds our memories, both culturally
and historically. Whether from papyrus, rock wall or stele. it has
made its mark on our oldest artifacts and even then, that memory
is much newer than the clove or bulb. Even in the dichotomy of
part or whole is reflected a greater mystery that propels it forth
each Spring as the parts wane and the vision of fullness emerges.
Garlic is! The world, however, is changing. The non-locality of
physics has become the produce of the world. Markets of old in
dusty byways are all now stirred by the influx of trade and
lubricated by the arbitrary nature of currencies. Farmers from
Ireland are short on quality garlic seed and contacting us, as well
as New Zealanders and Aussies and even tiny nations that see
the flooding of Chinese garlic and wonder what in the world is
going on. Those of you that have computers should type the
letters FAO into a google search bar and take a look at world
trade flows by commodity. It is a real wake-up call if you think
things aren’t changing rapidly. Look at what crops we produce
and lead production in, and then check China. Exploding
populations may not have environmental wisdom, but they know
the land supports them. Here we seem to believe more in stock
markets than farmers markets. For a while, I must admit I
harbored anti-Chinese sentiments and out of that McCarthy era
paranoia that fears terrorism more than communism, I came to
realize that we cannot rest on our laurels. Our falling dollar
cannot buy the fruits and veggies that we were accustomed to
years ago. I’ve researched production systems in China and
besides having the numbers to produce what is nearly 80% of
the world’s garlic, they also have built the laboratories to do the
necessary work of improving quality. It’s our government that
has dropped the ball on agricultural research and quality
controls. Budgets are falling like overripe fruit and farmers are
dying quicker than they are being replaced, and so we need to
get our heads and hearts back in the game. We don’t buy health,
it has to be incorporated into our lifestyles and we need to fuel
our bodies with food that is not just safe, but fresh, nutritious
etc....you all know the drill.
So let that garlic emerging each Spring reinvigorate your
commitment to the Earth and take a moment to sink your knees
into the softened soil and ask to be reminded as to your role on
this planet and give thanks to this land you have to work with
and the crops of garlic or beans or whatever vision of growth
you have. Spring is the true new year, as true as the cycle of
moon, and Now is the season of intention. Out of the long nights
of winter bring forth your dreams and insist on stepping up and
into being a part of the great changes happening worldwide, and
revive the heart to give service and strength to your endeavors
and know that this garlic which has chosen you to be a part of its
path, is older, wiser in its ways of survival and, therefore, a
teacher to us all!
Garlic is.
There is only one clove, eternal. It borrows from you,
fingers, arms, intention and is only ever always now growing. In
planting it is already harvested, in growing it rests. We hold
ourselves in our hands and it speaks through these lips, yours
and mine. In families of bulbs, that same eternal self now shines
and beckons. In endless variety it is the same. The knees that
bend and fall upon this one earth have eyes Chinese, or Italian
or our very own, and there is no difference at all. We create
those divisions of type or nationality or seen as climatic change
and yet there is one clove, planting itself through you and
through me. The crow calls forth to remind us there is only now.
The rains and winds dance to its melody and sing a simple
song...and this earth of which there only is everything reminds
us again and again and again to sing along, to whistle while we
work and to celebrate now! Its cycle is our life, relived every
second in a thousand different faces and forms. The fire it fuels
and burns within and without us is the eternal flame. Garlic is.
Out of compost heaps and dumpsters it rises, raising its green
flag, that eternal flame of youth that seeks out its very self as we
mirror also everything. It does not die and yet is always dying to
form as it rises again from dust and the debris of yesterdays to
arrange the future that is still ever only now. The miracle of
seed, the cycle of acorn and oak, seasons unending still send
forth the promise of rebirth, and the constancy of change that
itself is changeless. Behold the clove in all things. It is the smile,
the rainbow and the storm. The sulfur regardless of form. That
self same moment of recognition that you and me and it and
them and all that really is, is a dance of color and sound and one
breath planting and harvesting, breathing in and out the same
one light that sustains us.
Garlic is. (B.D.)
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The Garlic Press is the newsletter of the Garlic Seed Foundation and
has been published since 1987.
Subscription to The Garlic Press is included with membership
in the Garlic Seed Foundation.
In each issue we try and cover topics on growing, eating, botany, medicine,
and history laced with some culture and humor. We welcome member submissions.
Back issues are bound and available by
mail or at festivals.
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