Peripatetic philomaths…focusing on what's really important, eating ethically and cleanly, fermenting, foraging/wildcrafting, practicing herbalism, and being responsible stewards of our land. Sharing our photos, musings, and learnings. Still seeking our tribe.
As he contemplated how to get across the Gray, Sylvie’s warnings about its terrible dangers were still fresh in Gaston’s memory. Yet, he felt compelled to go there, feeling that some important event loomed in his future, and that it was inextricably entwined with his quest. He gazed at it with trepidation and worked up his courage.
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part VII”
The baby snails had congregated at the White and were looking restless. Sophie knew that the recent heavy rain had brought them out, and they could be a handful when they were in groups. The tiny one with the light section of shell finally turned to Sophie, and, nearly shouting with excitement, asked “has Gaston reached the Red yet??”
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part VI”
There is beauty before you, she said. Look for it. Gaston heard the words as he awoke from his dream. Who had said these words – almost whispered – as he floated in the twilight realm between sleep and wakefulness? He needed to find out. He shifted his shell and continued on.
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part V”
Gaston knew he had to hurry. It was searingly hot already, and it was only early morning. A small snail like him could become a dried husk in no time if he couldn’t get to a place of coolness and damp, so he sprinted – well, as much as a snail can sprint – toward what seemed to be a wet haven in the Green.
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part IV”
After he left René’s cozy home, Gaston felt a pang: homesickness. He missed his friends – the comfort of places he knew and familiar faces. It was an ache that sat in the pit of his stomach, tempting him to go back to the White…but he reminded himself that adventure was exciting – and lonely. He put on a brave face and continued his trek to the place that he needed to find.
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part III”
The postcard read “Dear Sophie and Remy, I am well and steadily making progress. I am still in the Green, but I know that I will find the Red. I miss you and hope you’re both well. Please eat something delicious for me. See you soon, Gaston.”
Continue reading “Short Read: A Snail’s Search, Part II”
Forged Mettle Farm 