Bus stop

We drove Toshiko to the bus stop in town this evening. After her two weeks on the farm, trimming garlic, digging sweet potato, slinging veggies at the farmers’ market, she’s heading out again, first to Toronto and then Montreal for a few days of sightseeing, then on to the southern US and Mexico for the winter. After that, she plans to continue studying English in Vancouver for an extended period, before heading back to Japan. With the WWOOFers of the last couple of seasons—from Japan, Germany, Spain—there’s definitely been an international flavor on this very local, tiny farm. It’s fascinating to think about how far these hands have come, to do simple tasks in a field for a while, then vanish down the road. As a non-driver, growing veggies full-time for sale very nearby, I have minimal direct involvement with travel. But its effects are all around and often on my mind. I find myself calculating the distance people drive to get to the farm or the farmers’ market. I’m alert to the increasing number of Mennonites clop-clopping by with horse-and-buggy. I think about the routes traveled by the tools and supplies I pick up at the big chain stores in town. I sometimes imagine leaving the farm, on my own and without driving, catching the once daily bus that would plug me back into the world of cities (at least two-thirds of the PLANET now lives in cities!), where travel is condensed to nothing. Standing with Toshiko at the bus stop today kicked up a lifetime of memories of big city living, the oddness of flying across an entire ocean in a few hours, sometimes with hardly a day’s notice and not a second thought, and then the last few YEARS spent tending a tiny patch of FIELD, barely moving beyond a single line of sight. Hmmm… What a wiggly world. :)