Family Dinner

I am beyond thrilled to go to the farmer’s market on Tuesday. I love fresh fruits and vegetables and am really excited to talk to the local farmers and vendors about how the food I am buying was grown. When a meal is made out of fresh, locally grown produce, it feels so much better to prepare and eat. First, you are doing something healthy for your body and second, you are helping local vendors to keep producing food for the community.

I also LOVE to cook, so this project enables me to pursue a passion of mine and learn at the same time. My dad is a phenomenal cook so I have learned a lot from him. He has always stressed the importance of a balanced diet and always prepared balanced meals for my family. Dinner time was kind of hectic when I was in high school because my two sisters and I always had conflicting schedules with sports, music, church, and school.  It was a rare occasion when we all got to sit down as a family and eat a full meal together, but that made it so much more special when it did happen. I truly believe in the theory that families who sit down together to dinner often and engage in conversation are a more close knit family. When I get the chance to go home and eat dinner with my family now that I am in college, I make sure to engage in meaningful conversation and really embrace the family time.

            Barbra Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, really surrounds the concept of organic eating as well as embracing the family aspect of the process of eating healthier. Her accounts give me hope that I can change my lifestyle and overcome the college myths of ‘freshman fifteen’ and cheap, easy food choices. I also enjoy how Kingsolver writes some of the book herself while adding stories from her husband as well as daughter. This shows just how much love she has for her family and how much easier it is to overcome a task when you are participating with the people closest to you. Family gives you the courage to keep trying, even when you feel like a goal is unable to be accomplished.

Sunrise

Every day I have to force myself to get out of bed at 6:30a.m., because I have an 8:00a.m. class Monday through Thursday. Most of the time I am resentful and crabby because I am definitely not a morning person, but the other day I saw something on my walk to class that made my routine of getting up truly worth it. As I walked across the bridge over Howard Street, I looked up to see the most beautiful sunrise I had ever seen. The sky was a blend of pink and purple and blue, with soft cotton-like clouds perfectly placed in the mix. I stood and stared for a few minutes (before coming to the realization that I was already running late) and stared into the beauty of the unknown sky.

That is what I love about seeing something new in nature. The first time you see a vast body of water or the sunset on a beautiful summer night, whatever it is brings a sense of wonder. Constantly blooming, budding, sprouting, and growing, nature changes and brings new sights every time we turn around. Nature is all around all the time, but the feeling of quiet bliss sneaks its way into the mind when a beautiful new sight is seen.

It kind of reminds me of John Burroughs’ passage, “The Art of Seeing Things”. This selection spoke to me from the beginning, because it enveloped the notion that everyone can see the many things that nature has to offer if they just look closely. He also describes how everyone sees nature differently, and I love these descriptions because of the truth they hold.  He states “To the scientist Nature is a storehouse of facts, laws, processes; to the artist she is a storehouse of pictures; to the poet she is a storehouse of images, fancies, a source of inspiration; to the moralist she is a storehouse of precepts and parables; to all she may be a source of knowledge and joy” (147). Everyone has their own interpretation of nature and its power, and it only takes a few seconds, or a beautiful sunrise at 7:30a.m., to see it.

Remembrance

The poem “Soaking Up Sun” by Tom Hennen really spoke to me as I read it for the second time today. Sometimes it takes a second reading of a poem to really ‘soak up’ everything it has to offer. Externally, Hennen’s imagery throughout the poem is sensational as he describes sun as “halo of light” (v. 7) and “cornstalks [that] glinted bright as pieces of glass” (vv. 7-8). Alliteration is everywhere throughout the poem and aids immensely in the flow of this free verse, but I specifically was drawn to the “sweet smelling apple sticks” (vv. 13-14). Internally, this poem holds such deep connection to family and the association nature helps us to make with family.

            On a personal level, I was able to relate with this poem more than any other that has been read in class. My aunt and uncle live in Iowa next to a corn field, and last year my entire family went to visit for a weekend. While everyone in the house one evening, my grandpa, dad, and I sat out in the yard staring off into the vast acres of cornstalks and the sunset on the horizon. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still picture that night and smell the sweet corn that enveloped the air. This is the image and sense I get when I read Hennen’s poem. It is a testament to nature’s ability to remember. You may not always remember how you looked or what was said, but the smells of corn or the touch of the soft summer grass beneath your fingertips will always bring you back.

Reconnecting through Nature

I was very excited for Dave Dempsey to speak last week, but I didn't think his words would help me reconnect so much with my home. When I saw the picture in his book of the Rock River Ice Caves in the Upper Peninsula, it brought me back to last Christmas when I went snowshoeing with my sister and her boyfriend to the caves. Winter is a wonderful season, and though it gets unbelievably cold in the UP, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

These caves form from the natural freezing of the Rock River waterfalls, and it is truly a breathtaking sight. It is about a mile hike from the entrance of the trail to the caves. Once a completely wooded area, the Rock River trails are a product of the logging that took place in the 1930's. Rock River extends about 15 feet over Rock River Falls, pouring into Ginpole Lake, a 13-acre body of water bordered by canyon walls. These sandstone walls support a diverse array of plants in the spring and summer.

These ice caves, whose beauty can be truly known only when seen in person, reminded me of the Robert Frost poem "Dust of Snow". It is a poem about how simplicity can bring happiness to even the worst day. Frost's narrator in the poem has a transformation of mood from just one 'dust of snow from a hemlock tree' falling on his head. If we all took a second to understand the simplicity of nature and really take in the beauty, I believe people would be a lot happier.

The outdoors have always been important to me, and to find such beautiful places like Rock River so close to my hometown makes me really realize how fortunate I am. When I was younger, I took a lot of these wonderful places overflowing with the beauty of nature for granted. From now on, I hope to see all the wonderful landmarks so close to my front door.