Last summer after work, I went to the community gardens to pick tomatoes and cucumbers from my plot. Again.
Both were growing in such ridiculous abundance and I was lost in thought, brainstorming how I might possibly be able to convince anyone I knew to take any more — and then on to which neighbor I might surprise with the mysterious appearance of free local, organic produce on their doorstep. The Georgia heat swelled and rippled around me, and I could almost see more tomatoes ripening before my eyes.
“Hey! Did you know there’s a fig tree over here?!”
A familiar face and fellow community member, Sam, was wandering toward the outskirts of the yard. With one pant leg still rolled up from riding her bicycle, she was looking over her shoulder at me and grinning from ear to ear. We rarely spoke to each other, but we were Facebook friends — so, you know, it was almost like we hung out in real life and had this type of casual exchange all the time. Almost. I’m fairly introverted and have a very busy, analytical brain. Two things went through my head:
1) Is she talking to me? Am I supposed to go over there?
and
2) What’s a fig? Like in the newton? Am I supposed to know this? Is this a southern thing? Do they have those in New York?!
“Come here!” Sam beckoned with both hands. Well, that answered one question. As I approached with skirt pockets swinging, full of bright, scarlet tomatoes, I figured I’d take care of the other.
“Um, I don’t think I know what a fig is. So, nope. I had no idea,” I said with a friendly and awkward smile. I was feeling shy, and delirious from the heat.
Sam stood in front of a beautifully chaotic tree. It had giant leaves and, once I looked closer, lots of green bulbs just inside the leaves’ cover.
It turns out those were the figs. Sam proceeded to gently squeeze a few, telling me that she could tell if they were ripe if they were a little bit squishy. She pulled one from the tree, tore it open with her thumbs and forefingers — and my eyes grew wide. I was shocked to find that the insides weren’t gooey and dark brown, nothing at all like the insides of a fig newton. Apparently there are various types of figs, and this one was gorgeous!
Sam picked 2 figs, eating one and handing the other to me. She ate a couple more while I just stood there — marveling at my own, and at the way Sam seemed so in touch with the mammalian part of herself. There’s something so special and raw about eating food right from the branch, or the vine, or the earth. No grocery store, no labels, no utensils. Just a person and the planet, sharing.
“Do you like it?!” she asked expectantly. Man, she’s really excited about figs, I thought. I tried it…
It was okay. I want to say that I loved it, but it was just okay. It wasn’t nearly as tasty as it looked, and that was fine with me. I gave the rest to Sam.
I chose and plucked another fig from the tree using what I’d learned and muttered some sort of goodbye. I wandered back over toward the gardens and to an old wire spool that served as a makeshift table.
My brain’s {Better for Babies} wheels were turning — a Little Beetle Little-to-Big organic wool cover with fig-colored snaps!
I took a few photos of the open fig with my phone, texted them to Leah with the caption “fig wool cover?!” and then heard myself laughing aloud, now completely alone in the gardens. Here I was, again, thinking about work in a moment that would surely seem incongruous to a stranger: Is she really fusing this incredible moment of awe at nature’s endless creativity and beauty with the rational particulars of wool diaper design?!
But, really, it’s not incongruous or strange:
1) I absolutely love my job and
2) I love that our planet offers never-ending beauty and magic for us, as long as we’re paying attention. (I know, this is super-cliche, especially coming from someone who works for a company specializing in cloth diapers made with natural and organic materials. But it’s just so true!)
I’m lucky to have these 2 things go hand-in-hand; most of {BfB}’s inspiration — from color names to fabric choices to our practices and ethics — is inspired by a deep and abiding love for our planet and all it provides. We should all be so lucky.
~~~
So tell me: how has nature inspired your creativity? Where else do you find your most powerful inspiration? And were those figs really ripe??
I’d love to hear from you! :}
Lauren