by Jesika Feather
Joe moves with
the light gait of a man who’s spent his life wrangling brief footing from loose
stones. He has a slight frame, glasses, and a cloud of gray hair that puffs out
beneath his signature black beanie. His hand movements depict a lifetime spent
pressing roots into soil, extracting seeds from their husks, and subtly
shifting this leaf or that stalk to investigate peculiarities.
Joe’s name is
generally spoken concurrently with that of his life-project: Mountain Gardens.
Mountain Gardens is a wonderland, a four-acre paradise, and an archetype of the
existence we self-proclaimed revolutionaries strive for. The property lies at
the base of Mount Mitchell, just outside of Burnsville, North Carolina. Joe
bought the land raw in 1972 and has spent the last 40 years nourishing the
soil, erecting artistic infrastructure, and influencing hundreds of
apprentices.
My husband and
I interned at Mountain Gardens for two seasons (2004 - 2005). I was attracted
to the internship because I wanted to live simply and to gain more practical
skills. Because I was taking a break from teaching, I anticipated some
mindless, emotionless, nature-based busywork. I imagined (pre-arrival) that
weeding might be the ideal task for me. I fantasized about the black and white
finality of a job well done: a bed of lettuce or a row of Echinacea starkly
contrasted against the uninterrupted, dark, richness of cleared soil. It was
exactly the sort of unquestionable triumph that my mind had begun to crave;
like coloring inside the lines, or two plus two equals four.
But Joe’s style
of gardening is not cut and dry. It’s an intuitive science; a
50/50 blend of intellect and instinct (sort of like teaching). At Mountain
Gardens the line between “weed” and “not-a-weed” is a vast gray area. There are
very few, if any, plants that Joe actually eradicates from his garden. Though
he may ask you to weed the Agrimony from the Angelica he will, later, suggest
that you collect its leaves from the odd, sporadic patches where its presence
is acceptable. Agrimony (also called Soldier’s Herb) is commonly used in a
poultice due to its ability to slow and stop bleeding. Until you become
familiar with the ever transforming appearance of each plant and its varied
healing or nutritional properties, weeding is one of the more daunting
assignments at Mountain Gardens.
Joe doesn’t
grow or process any individual plant in mass. He is dedicated to variety and he
specializes in Chinese as well as Native medicinal plants. On his four acres
Joe has developed a veining, flowering, photosynthesizing Materia Medica… a
living library of plant medicine.
Each year Joe
harvests seed from the hardiest specimens within his horticultural throng. He
scrupulously organizes his yield into film canisters that are labeled and
dated. These canisters are arranged ‘A’ to ‘Z’ in snug-fitting holes drilled
into shelves that line his custom-built 6’x4’ seed cabinet. As new seeds come in,
the outdated leftovers are hodgepodged into a single envelope. In the
springtime this geriatric seed medley is scattered throughout the garden
(another incentive to pour over those plant identification flashcards)
After my
reluctant realization that this internship would actually require me to learn
things and make decisions, it seemed natural to invest two years into this
apprenticeship. We wanted to reap the full benefits of Joe’s teachings. Joe was
a refreshing anomaly for both of us. We could have spent decades learning
solely from his lifestyle.
Joe maintains a
lenient attitude about… pretty much everything. He eats meat which, to many
intern’s chagrin, is not always hormone free or organic. It would
not even be unprecedented to discover… ghasp… the tell-tale foil wrapper
of a fast food hamburger in his truck.
Even as Joe
approaches his 70th birthday, he doesn’t strive for more amenities,
comforts, or conveniences. He plods simply and doggedly into his 40th
year as proprietor of Mountain Gardens, influencing his interns with the same,
humble, lead-by-example teaching style. He presents himself as a
problem-solving equal, never flaunting his mastery of the avant garde
techniques that have become his daily routines.
Joe is a
catalyst of the Permaculture movement, from before the term ‘Permaculture’ was
coined. However, due to his unpretentious, almost Taoist nature, his writings
and gardening practices have mostly provided flashes of insight and
inspirational whispers in the ears of more prominent writers and activists.
One of Joe’s
initial hurdles in 1972, before any of the infrastructure or gardening could
ensue, was to pry innumerable stones from his virgin mountain property.
Mountain Gardens crawls up the base of Mt. Mitchell at, quite literally, a 45
degree slant. In accordance with Joe’s use-what’s-readily-available philosophy,
he incorporated nearly every one of these stones in the winding retaining walls
that embrace each of his garden beds. His rock walls extend about two and a
half feet high, supporting garden plots that roll approximately three and half
feet back before butting into the subsequent terrace.
Mountain Gardens Pavilion |
Each structure
on Joe’s property is assembled with a similar piece-by-piece, meticulous regard
for beauty, sound construction, and amalgamation with the natural environment.
In 1984 Joe, with help from friends, hand cut every shingle for the roof of the
pavilion: a spacious community structure that incorporates an extensive library
and herb shop and whose roof extends further to provide coverage for a large,
communal outdoor kitchen. Upon completion of the pavilion, the leftover
shingles were used to cover the roof and exterior walls of an exceptionally
quaint outhouse.
Even for those
accustomed to “alternative spaces,” an initial glance at the pavilion will
probably result in the universal first impression: “is this for real?” This
space was not created to look like a wizard’s lair, but for all intents
and purposes, it actually is one.
Upon scanning
the table where Joe prepares Chinese tonic prescriptions for the patients of a
local acupuncturist, you will notice the coffee mug containing a few pens, an
herb-dusted spoon, and several dried gecko heads on wooden skewers. Like
everything else in his mystical apothecary, these disconcerting leftovers are
not for show. Many ancient Chinese recipes do indeed call for há jiè (dried gecko): just one reason why most of
his tea consumers prefer their tea un-translated.
With the
exception of the slow winter months, Joe rarely leaves Mountain Gardens.
Dancing is one of the only activities, besides sustainable wildcrafting, that lures
him from his property. Nearly two weeks into my internship, as I watched Joe
crouched on his haunches - tending a fire, a strange familiarity in his
utilitarian grace snagged a two-year-old memory to the forefront.
Long
before I’d ever heard of Joe or Mountain Gardens I was at a music venue in
Asheville. Though the musicians were giving us their wholehearted-all, the
audience was utterly unenthused. The band made animated comments into the
microphone and intensified its musical fervor. Still… the audience remained
unmoved.
I
watched as the musicians and their nimble enthusiast transported themselves to
cloud-nine. They channeled a full-on shamanic boogie while the rest of us, we
humdrum leftovers, remained to fend for ourselves.
As an intern I
looked forward to every drum circle, full-moon party, or spontaneous shin-dig
that evoked Joe’s crazy imp jive. There were plenty of these opportunities
because Joe is a virtuoso at whoopin’-it-up in the woods.
Over the years,
Mountain Gardens has inspired the construction of many inventive party
enhancements including a wood fired hot tub, a cob pizza oven, and a large deck
that bounces under the force of ecstatic dancing.
The revelries
generally commence as the hot tub achieves a reasonable temperature. As the
night progresses the fire is stoked with increased zeal until only the most
hard-core or the most inebriated can dip more than a toe in the celebratory
broth. Joe waits until the very end, until everyone else has gone home, passed
out, or sustains a healthy intimidation of the smoking hot tub. He is known for
his assertion, “I don’t get naked for anything under 108.”
Perhaps it’s
this propensity for scalding water that perks Joe’s vitality. Or maybe it’s his
proclivity for bushwhacking up sharp inclines on regular wildcrafting
expeditions. On each of these off-trail plant missions, Joe easily outpaces his
interns. Seemingly unaware that his near-sprint up the mountain puts the rest
of us 20-somethings to shame, he scampers along at a solid, inexhaustible clip…
rather like he’s darting up a household staircase. There is nothing for us to
do but pick up the pace and pray he will discover an oddly colored trillium or
an unfamiliar patch of bloodroot… anything that might waylay him while we
regain our breath.
Joe also puts a
lot of stock in his daily intake of Gynostemma tea. Gynostemma (Jiaogulan) is
a Chinese veining plant that Joe has adopted as one of his specialty herbs. It
is a longevity booster with very similar chemistry to the Ginseng root.
Gynostemma’s medicinal properties can be extracted from the vine and leaves
and, therefore, it can be harvested far more sustainably than Ginseng which is
currently verging on extinction in our native forestland.
During the 16
months that I interned at Mountain Gardens, I retained very little knowledge
concerning plant medicine or gardening. Instead I was inexorably influenced by
my daily interactions with a man wholly committed to his life-mission. His
dedication is not based in an intellectual ideal or a nine-to-five obligation.
Whether he is teaching, dancing, gardening, or re-directing a compulsive
intern, Joe is wholeheartedly contributing to a positive outcome in the cosmic
plot line.
In an addendum
that he attached to his well-known essay, Paradise Gardening Joe wrote:
… I
still hold firmly to the belief that the best way to address global warming,
diversity loss and other planetary problems, the best way to address war,
injustice and other social problems, and the best way for humans to live on the
planet to realize our full physical, mental and spiritual potential are the
same ‘way.’ Mountain Gardens is an effort to act out this theory – We are
actors in a piece of ‘visionary ecological theater.’
When I think of
Joe I imagine him accompanied by his ubiquitous mug of Gynostemma tea, sifting
through piles of gardening literature at a table dusted in potting soil and
residual root tendrils. Or I imagine him meandering through the day’s projects…
repotting, seed saving, weatherizing… the seemingly minute alterations which,
over time, have built his Utopia.
In a world
mesmerized by quick progress and instant gratification, Joe holds a space for
methodical, meaningful, real-time change. At Mountain Gardens the tedious
cycles of growth, decay, and reconstruction are understood, simply, as the
Earth’s stalwart style of instruction. Joe nurtures his own property with a
similar relentless, unassuming nature. He is a true “Earth-style” instructor
whose very life demonstrates his fundamental belief: that humans can
interact courteously with the rest of this planet.
Jesika
Feather is a mother, teacher, writer, and community organizer
who lives in Eugene, Oregon. She enjoys living closely with brilliant, zany
individuals and then writing about the ensuing rigmarole. You can find some of
this in Communities Magazine or on her blog at: http://jesmamasmusings.blogspot.com.
This is good. Excellent.
ReplyDelete"Joe moves with the light gait of a man who’s spent his life wrangling brief footing from loose stones." Very nice.
Hi Jeskia. It's Will from Earthstorys. Hope you're well. And Mark, too, if you're out there. Both of you are happy just about always, I am certain of this.