Press the button above, and you will be initiated into a world in which scientists pretend to be Vikings, nuns wield axes, and antibiotic-resistant “superbugs” get a kick in the butt from a one-thousand-year-old folk remedy. And yes, it does call for ox bile.
Presenting “Staph Retreat,” from Radiolab.
“Many Indians have told me that the most basic difference between Western and indigenous ways of being is that Westerners view the world as dead, and not as filled with speaking, thinking, feeling subjects as worthy and valuable as themselves.”
–Derrick Jensen
Isn’t it interesting that as we become more civilized, we surround ourselves with more things that are not alive? Continue reading
One of my guilty pleasures on the internet is looking at a particular type of ad.
They’re usually found below news or special-interest articles, and they’re designed to be sensational. I’m sure there’s a guy somewhere whose boss told him, “Say anything you want, just get them to click.”
We cut through the grass with our bodies, merging with the field. The calls of birds alert the other creatures to our presence as we swish and crackle our way through grass that’s taller than we are. At last, we come upon a clearing.
On my path through the internet today, I stumbled upon Sam Thayer, the midwest’s wild food guru. He’s written two guides that I often see on people’s shelves, all at varying degrees of wear. Some are practically falling apart from use.
In the interview, Sam brings up an important point: you don’t have to live on a farm or next to a national park to harvest wild food. City-dwellers have an abundance of wild foods right out their front door. Like anywhere else, you just have to know what to look for.
By Nicholas Tippins
Three jars of superfoods sit on my shelf. Dark bottles, carrying ancient medicine. I dip my spoon into the jar of Spirulina, and draw out a green so dark it I could be looking at it in the bottom of the ocean. The next one is brighter, like grass sprinkled with emeralds. The third is brown, the color of root and bark. They contain nearly all the vitamins, minerals, antioxidants and adaptogens that my body needs.
I can see my ancestors harvesting these sacred foods, making medicinal meals from them. Continue reading
We scatter in different directions, combing the forest floor. One woman finds a patch of Lady’s Thumb, while another discovers abundant Stinging Nettle. A friend of mine teaches me about Purslane by shoving a fat stem into my mouth. It is rich and tangy, full of good meat. Meanwhile, a few men gather to chat around a tower of Lamb’s Quarter. We feel the tiny hairs on the plants as we harvest them, the cool of the leaves even in the glow of the sun.
My soul craves wildness.
Black caps from the thicket behind my cabin open themselves into my mouth. They flood the flavor of love and the smell of bark. Continue reading