3.25.25 | Becca's Holy Grail

“What would happen if we all had to forage and hunt for ourselves like wild animals? Would we find more satisfaction? More compassion? A deeper sense of connection to each other and the real reason we are here?”

I have a theory that we have become a little too far removed from the earth. There is a frenzied feeling in the air these days, which seems to be created by too much input from too many avenues—phones, email, snail mail, social media. On the whole, there doesn’t seem to be enough exertion spent on sustenance.

I remember a camping trip I took a long while back. It was a backcountry canoe trip along Assateague Island with some friends where we paddled to a campsite and spent a few days removed from the industrial world. I built a fire, baked some bread in that fire, and even foraged some local flora for meals. It was one of the more fulfilling and calm times of my life.  

I know, I know. I sound like a big hippie. But that’s no surprise. I am a product of my parents, after all, whose dream it was to have a small farm and do their best to live off the land and prosper from their own labor. My mom’s ultimate goal was to produce meals completely from the garden. No outside help or store-bought ingredients needed.

I have such fond memories of a meal where she very nearly achieved this. While I set the table outdoors, she boiled up sweet corn, fried eggplant with tomatoes and basil, sliced perfectly ripe cantaloupe, and boiled crabs pulled from the water just a few feet away. It puts a smile on my face whenever I think of those moments spent around that table.

So it’s no wonder that I am relieved that spring is here. I can finally get back to the garden, preparing the annual beds, waking up the perennial beds, and planning for future beds to be built and terraced into the hillside.

My mom’s hippie dream is now mine, to one day have an entire meal on the table that was built from my efforts. I’ll be honest, I’ve got a ways to go before I get there. But whatever frustrations I meet until then, it will be one sweet day.  

—Becca

Stephanie Wilkinson