Planting, harvesting, and adapting | Danielle Carson

On my first Saturday, I spent the afternoon pinching fat frijoles de palo, holding them up to the hazy sun to see the delicate bean swelling inside its fuzzy womb. I was sweating under a sun hat that has gradually been accumulating mud, into a shirt that I’ve worn for the third time this week, my water bottle clipped haphazardly on my body for fear that I become dehydrated. By my rubber-booted feet, half-buried in hip-height weeds, was a sack full of today’s yield, which had come, sticky and full, blossoming out of pink and yellow flowers on branches with leaves weighed heavy by deep red and neon green-colored caterpillars, the kind that you don’t need to touch to know they’re poisonous.

I was alone in the garden, better known here as the huerta, and the only so….

Source: Planting, harvesting, and adapting | Danielle Carson