sw00789st91-food.gardens

   My father grew up on a small farm at the edge of the town
I, years later, was born in.  By that time, with help from some
of his friends, he'd built a brick house on two lots he'd bought.
It was a corner location less than a right-angled mile--along
the sidewalks--from the place where he was raised.  Behind
his house he planted a garden, and from him I learned (among
numerous other practical skills) how to construct a garden.
   Our garden, an Eden for us, seemed endlessly edible.  At
the back were raspberry bushes in front of which were rows
of strawberries.  Potatoes, tomatoes, string beans, heads of
lettuce and cabbage, and peas, carrots, beets, celery and/ 
even asparagus: all were there. 
   Why am I revealing this and revelling in it?  Two poet sites
I visit.  This nation, and much of this planet, is too dependent
on oil, a commodity which may have already peaked.  Some
are now saying oil is on its way to $200 a barrel for us, and
capitalism--as we know it--is ashing itself in the face of it.
Certain nations are already paying considerably more for a
barrel than $200.  Since so many of us live in cities where
we do not have enough space for decent food gardens, my
suggestion is: co-op gardens.  Cities, counties, and states
should set aside land for them.  If a commodity upon which
so much depends consistently rises in price, all those goods
which depend on it will consistently rise in price.  Getting
beyond the need for oil appears to be the only happy-ending
alternative.  Our dependence upon fossil fuels is the main
reason why this planet of conscious intelligent beings remains,
in Michio Kaku terms, a Type 0 civilization.  Civilizations which
are Type 0 and--for whatever reasons--cannot pass to being
Type 1 civilizations/ are candidates for extinction. 
   Those of you out there who have food gardens appreciate
the beauty of them.



-
Brian A. J. Salchert