I like the ground. Yes the actual earth under feet. It’s where every journey starts, and ends. You can dream, plan, research and work hard, but you still have to live on the ground, or at least, know where it is.
The ground also has a story. In 2015 I went to the North of Scotland to learn more about permaculture. I was really curious about compost and the possibility of turning beach sand into soil. It turned into a lesson in regeneration where we learned how to build up and sustain soil. The secret? You have to tend to it, and turn it, everyday. (It’s called Hot Compost and it is worth looking into).
While the North Sea waves crashed to shore, someone told a story about a farmer who spent an entire year just looking at and listening to a field where they planned to build an organic farm. Yes, a year. Through close observation they learned about the soil and the whole web of life, like when and where bees land in early spring, and which flowers the hummingbird returns to in winter. As the year turned, they learned the exact spot where shadows and sun move through. This farmer got to know the land, the ground, both within and beyond the property lines.
So what is the ground, exactly? Technically it’s layers: ancient rock, while soil makes up the outer layers. Humus is the top layer, soil rich in nutrients, created by the breakdown of plants and organic matter. That’s the part that’s going, through deforestation, erosion, or literally blowing away in the increasingly intense weather of climate change.
A garden usually starts with soil, and with good soil you can do a lot. But you can also start with less than ideal ground. In the great book Dirt, author and arborist William Bryant Logan writes about how soil and compost have been highly valued throughout history; for example, in the not so distant past compost manure even formed the wedding dowry in rural France. Logan talks about the strength and also the fragility of soil and shares this nugget: “Only by replacing what you take can you keep a soil fertile.”
Besides compost, there are other ways soil can become a base for renewal. Have you ever been on a walk in the forest and stumbled across a wildflower meadow that made you stop, look and listen? On older farms, wildflower meadows were often cultivated in soil with poor drainage, near a river or pond. The flowers attract pollinators, bees and hummingbirds. A meadow brings a buzz. Even after a storm, the ground starts a journey of repair. New shoots and beneficial wildflowers (in BC that means Fireweed) are often the first signs of renewal.
Humans have been connected to the earth for a very long time. Even the word human, from Old French (humain or umain), started with the PIE (Proton Indo European) root: dhghem or….earth.
In the end, the ground reminds us who we are, and that we are on it. There’s really no getting away from it. As Logan writes:
“We spend our lives hurrying away from the real, as though it were deadly to us. It must be somewhere up there on the horizon, we think. And all the time it is in the soil, right beneath our feet.”
Book Recommendation:
Dirt: The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth by William Bryant Logan.
Dirt will root you to the ground…while the author’s deft weave of science and story will fill you with awe. It’s a book about soil that’s hard to put down. A lovely, inspiring read and a reminder that Spring’s just around the corner.
Recipe:
Warm Winter Potato Salad
· 3 lbs of your favourite in season potatoes
(try 2 Russet potatoes peeled or 3 Yukon Gold skin on)
· 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
· 2 tablespoons red-wine vinegar
· 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
· ½ small red onion, thinly sliced
· Salt and pepper
Wash potatoes, then boil or steam til tender. Mix mustard, vinegar and olive oil in a bowl. Put potatoes in the bowl. Toss. Add onion. Mix. Add salt and pepper. Toss.
Writing Prompt (Timed):
Finish this sentence: I am a rock and I am . . .
For fifteen minutes, write whatever comes, whether a haiku or one long sentence. After you have it down, keep working on it. Make it ground-like. The writing can turn into a story, or a poem later on, but for now, keep it short. Keep returning til it’s right.
About Veronica
I am a writer from Vancouver. The Blue Potato: Notes from the Ground is my newsletter about connecting to the earth through writing, reading, and life on the daily. MFA (Master of Fine Arts) Grad 2024 from King’s College Halifax. You can read more about me at my website: veronicagaylie.com or find me at times on instagram. Thanks for reading.
Love this as the starting point for the Blue Potato! But now I also want to know the story behind the name of your newsletter...