All things become islands before my senses,Cesare Pavese, from “Passion for Solitude,” trans. Geoffrey Brock, Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950 (Copper Canyon Press, 2002)
which accept them as a matter of course: a murmur of silence.
All things in this darkness—I can know all of them,
just as I know that blood flows in my veins.
Rather primitive attempt at mini swales behind my sunchokes. Promptly seeded with cowpeas, oats and a few other cover crops.
All the grass cut in Florida in one month could feed all the animals on the planet for a year. We just don’t use it. And these assholes tell you that you live in scarcity? You don’t live in scarcity, you live in a poorly designed and poorly managed system.Jacque Fresco (via sarcasticvegan)
We must confront the myth of the “natural” and the tendency to call something natural simply because it seems to exist free of human management. A regenerative agent in the system must take his vision beyond this snapshot and romantic image and see the current landscape as simply one ecological succession unfolding, one scenario among many possible, which happens to be the result of past disturbances and particular events occurring immediately after these events. Permaculture, in this view can be thought of as applied disturbance ecology.Ben Falk, The Resilient Farm and Homestead
We become outlines of ourselves —Zachary Schomburg, from “New Kind of Light” (via weissewiese)
in the sky.
Got this in the mail today!
Color monotype on paper
Putting Chioga beets through the root washer today.
Without their chloroplasts plants would be left like the rest of us, to eat what they find. Instead they hold out their green palms and catch light. If there is magic in the world, surely this is it: the descendants of tiny creatures in leaves, capable of ingesting the sun.Rob Dunn (via mossmound)