What this little partridgeberry plant has taught me about food security
There's a reason why this little thing is called Sunny
I met Sunny in a Farm Field Day tent and brought him home in hopes of growing partridgeberries.
My laundry is hanging on the clothesline, swaying in the wind. I am sitting on two towels that I spread out on the lawn.
I can see a few ants on the ground, but they have been caught in the maze of eggshells that surrounds Sunny — my partridgeberry plant.
I remember, nearly three years ago, entering a white tent and seeing rows of plants sitting in black plastic trays. It was there I potted Sunny and took him home where I put him outside on my deck.
Sunny got his name when my mother asked me what I was calling him. I admit that until that point, I had always called him "my plant."
Shoots and leaves
On the spot, I said his name was Sunny. It was the first name that came into my mind. I am glad I named him, though, because people can connect to a name; he became a friend with whom I can empathize.
After two years, Sunny had a new shoot and plenty of leaves. One day, I found Sunny's pot upside down. I turned over the pot to find he was brown and all, but three leaves fell off.
I did not know if the wind, rain or stray cat was the cause, but I knew he could not stay on the deck.
Whether it was the climate or a cat, I did not want to ever see him like that again. I realized I needed to plant Sunny.
After digging a hole, I held Sunny's twisted mass of roots in my hands like a ball of stiff thread and placed them into the earth. I trimmed off Sunny's dead branches, so he could focus on maintaining strong roots.
I used low-impact methods by not using pesticides or chemicals. I put eggshells around Sunny and gave him water, with a bit of soap in it, to keep away the bugs.
When Sunny slowly began to lean towards the sun, I was happy, because it meant he was still alive.
It cannot be my imagination that Sunny's roots are holding on to the ground or he would have blown away in the wind.
While two ants climbed up my shoe, I told Sunny about how I hope to grow a vegetable garden in the future because I am worried about getting food on the island.
Panicked grocery shopping
I explained to him how I had worked as a cashier at a grocery store and witnessed the days leading up to a big storm. I saw how customers would come in and nearly pick the shelves clean. Days before one impending winter storm, after I had just finished my training, I was faced with very long lines of people stocking up for the oncoming storm.
One of my co-workers joked that this was my "trial by fire."
Working as a supermarket cashier is a good way to learn lessons about food security.
In the face of a big storm, people panic. They feel vulnerable.
Customers surge in, stocking up prior to a forecasted storm because the bad weather could easily disrupt Newfoundland's food supply chain.
Sunny seemed interested so I explained why this was a big problem, especially in Newfoundland.
Newfoundland is an island covered in rocky soil with unpredictable weather, which can make growing certain foods difficult.
Growing fruit, herbs and vegetables is one possible solution to Newfoundland's food issues.
After Confederation, Newfoundland grew dependent on mainland exports to ship food to the island.
Paul Dinn — the bee whisper at Adelaide's Honey Bee, Pollinator and Wildflower Reserve — had told me if food could not be shipped to the island, then Newfoundland would only have enough food to last three days.
When I first met Sunny, I did not realize how important he was to food sustainability.
I explained to Sunny, if he survives, he can grow berries that I can harvest and use as food. Growing fruit, herbs and vegetables is one possible solution to Newfoundland's food issues.
When Newfoundlanders grow food, we are contributing to the goal of creating a sustainable food system. My plant cannot change this by himself, but he is still alive, so he is contributing to the overall goal in a small way.
Here comes the rain
Sunny has a purpose because he can be the start of my future garden. He is also a plant whom I have taken care of for years and that is what makes him important to me.
Drops of rain hit my arms.
Summer showers are good for Sunny, but bad for me because I must get my laundry inside.
Sunny has still not recovered from his recent fall, he turned brown and I still have no idea if he is going to survive. I feel like I am taking care of a sick loved one who has somehow managed to survive a dangerous fall.
I have invested so much time into growing my plant, in the Newfoundland climate, that I cannot give up on Sunny or the idea of the fruits of my labour of love.