I have had many conversations on the side of the road, over peaches and tomatoes. I chat with strangers about the weather and politics. Over cherries and apricots, we’ve discussed faith, fear and loss. I feel like a bartender or a hair stylist. Passersby come to hear news or confide. These sources of information are more reliable than that of network news.
I’ve heard tales of courage and adventure. I’ve hugged strangers mourning the loss of a loved one. I’ve encouraged single moms to stay strong. I’ve made children smile by letting them pick their own fruit.
The old timers like to reminisce on the days when they would grow tomatoes and such. They give advice, then always comment on how the prices have gone up and how the times are changing.
I’ve endured every type of weather imaginable. Sometimes all in one day. I’ve learned to keep extra clothes in the truck, just in case. I’ve lost a tent to 70 mph wind. I’ve watched helplessly as the wind flipped a table over and the fruit and the scale went flying. I’ve frantically tried to protect boxes from torrential downpours that come out of nowhere and I’ve hid in my truck in many a lightning storm.
I’ve raised my son on the side of the road. He’s quite the salesman now. Many people have asked me why I do this work. Many have tried to talk me out of it. This is my 5th year roadside. I thoroughly enjoy it! It’s not about the money. I love being outside and talking to people. I believe in what I’m doing. People need to be reconnected to their food.
I’m part of a growing movement that is helping people to understand that what they eat is intrinsically connected to their health. The pandemic of 2020 helped this movement gain traction in a way. It showed people how reliant they are on an unreliable system. When the just-in-time system broke down and the stores were empty, people began to wake up to the fact that we need to get back to our roots and the old ways.
Nomadic Farmer 