Brussels sprouts at the market stand. My childhood was rich in bugs, books, and reptiles, but included just a few lonely and often...

Early peas, just up. A cool mist hangs in the greenhouse; the ground is caked and cold. But the sun is rising earlier each day, and the...

There they are. Five of them. And one must go. But how to choose? “Wide shoulders narrowing to a point”? “Ginormous”? “Elongated”? Or...

Warm eggs, fresh from the nest. I love discovering a just-laid egg, still dewy and warm from the hen’s body. My egg collecting rarely...

As a child, I found the fear of death mystifying. Raised in a culty, right-wing Christian family, my parents trotted out the message of...

My vision of bees smacked of domestic idyll – slow buzzing on a calm spring day, productive harvesters meandering from blossom to...

Eat local or not at all. Who’s your farmer? No farms, no food. Support your local farmer.   The slogans are many, and the logic is sound....

Eating is a human constant. It provides the energy necessary for physical survival, and structures celebrations like Thanksgiving...

I recently had the good fortune to visit Sandpoint, Idaho, in support of the folks there who are working to return some sanity to...

I am a dedicated list maker, a firm believer in making my values visible on the page. Alongside reminders to spend time with my banjolele...

Hi, all. This month, my friend Max contributes his perspective on carnivorous consumption. Enjoy! I eat my friends. I didn’t always....

Spiders arrived this year. In the past, I spotted an occasional spider, usually a small one marching solo. In the last growing season,...

Winters in Montana can be long and dark, so it was with pleasure that I found myself working in New Mexico for a week last month. I took...

I tell myself that herbs are part of any respectable grower’s garden. But then I count more than forty distinct species thriving in the...

I bundled up this morning and set out for a run, only to discover that the incessant wind was funneling snow grit down the valley with a...

My earliest tomato memory features my younger brother languishing for hours at the supper table in the late evening light, limp tomatoes...