Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Asparagus Hunters

Awhile back the women of my church had an activity centered around gardening.  One woman mentioned that she had planted some asparagus and noted that it takes years to produce.  It got me thinking about my days as an asparagus hunter.  It was long ago when I was just a child.  My grandpa was the master hunter and he reveled in teaching me the skills.  There were thirteen of us grandkids and the hunts were not too often (I'm guessing this has something to do with the "years to produce" thing) and he would usually invite a couple of us to join him.  Now this asparagus wasn't stuff he'd planted.  It was wild, growing free in many secret places throughout our little town that were only known to the master hunter.  He made us feel like secret sleuths, creeping through the brush to get to a point where he'd reach forward, and like magic, part some weeds and reveal the hidden treasure - a small patch of asparagus - that we were allowed to hold onto while he cut them off close to the ground. At the time I didn't even like asparagus- but the acquiring of it, now that was something I loved.