Today as we traveled up and down I-75 I saw clumps of staghorn sumac growing in edges of the fields alongside the highway. Since last fall I've been wanting to harvest the berries and make the lemonade-esque drink I've read about. Additionally, it is supposed to rain tonight and I'd heard that it's best to harvest the berries before a rain drains them of their flavor. These details converged in my mind and generated a sense of great urgency that propelled me to rush out to the embankment near our house as soon as we got home. Despite the fact that it was dusk and I was wearing cowboy boots, I made for the sumac I'd seen growing, slipped through to the other of the chain link fence, and started skittering up a steep slope towards the plants.
After watching me fall clumsily through the tall weeds, a burly neighbor yelled up to ask just "What the hell are you doing?" I told him. Twice. And then skittered away trying to look like I had every business stumbling through the brush and hoping he wouldn't call the police. None of the young sumac plants I found had berries-- they don't produce until at least a year of growth-- and I realized I would have to hop the tall fence in my stupid boots in order to avoid backtracking down the steep hill. I ripped my t-shirt in the process but avoided skewering myself on the fence. When I finally found a plant with berries, I was so eager to make up for my earlier mistakes that I greedily broke a primary rule of foraging and harvested all three clusters--rather than leaving some to reseed or for other foragers to harvest.
The way you do one thing is the way you do all things. Next time I will do the one thing with better planning and more reasonable shoes.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The Way You Do One Thing
A friend of ours recently mentioned the expression, "The way you do one thing is the way you do all things." The truth of the sentiment makes me cringe: the way I do most things is not the way I want to do all things. To quote Issa, "And yet, and yet." And yet I rush impatiently into many situations only to find myself wishing I'd had the presence of mind to stop for a red hot minute and make a plan. Or change my shoes.
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1 comment:
I've been wondering about the sumac berries that grow near our house for a long time; it's interesting to find out that they're usable. It may be too late to harvest them this time around, as it has rained, but I just might try anyhow.
And now you've got me thinking about the saying, too...
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