Image by alexis22578 via Flickr

Patterns forgotten are patterns found.

Like a lost love waiting an eager embrace.

My family eats in season again (mostly).

I put in my produce order. Greens and beans from one source, and tropical fruits and refrigerated apples from another. I know by the price and size of the case that the apples will be small and plentiful, but also likely mealy. Why? They’ve been in cold storage all winter long: they are not in season. But, damn if the small fry likes to much on an apple in the morning, and that just makes life easier.

After reintegrating seasonal eating (we’re not done yet!), we notice patterns. Our frozen berries are nearly gone. It’s strawberry season. Being in tune with the seasons means we’re more in tune with the weather. It’s been pretty rainy, they say strawberries will be late again. How are those tomatoes doing? Not well, they need heat.

Being in tune with the weather means we’re more in tune with Nature’s Cycles and Rhythms and Services. It means we’re more in tune with what sustains us. It means we’re more connected to that which gives us life.

Patterns forgotten are patterns found.

Patterns found are passed down.

Patterns passed down to be cherished by

the young ones we leave behind.