Chapter 6 #2
“It took a lot of trial and error, trying to figure out which plants make the most sense to plant together given their soil composition and water needs. Our community holds knowledge of some plants being more productive when planted together, but we need to fill in some gaps. Of course, looking to nature to see how things naturally grow is important. But we also know Indigenous people are the original scientists of this land, and our original processes of genetic mutation, hybridization, and combined cultivation are what allowed us to thrive on this land since time immemorial.”
Rowan looked down at her notes and flipped back a page. She briefly looked up and caught Juniper’s gaze. “Absolutely.” Then she looked back down at her notes. “Um, sorry backing up. What’s salicornia?”
“Salicornia is a maritime succulent. Some folks here call it pickleweed. It grows in salt marshes. They look like little green shoots that taste like what the ocean would taste like if it were a plant.”
“Oh, interesting,” Rowan scribbled additional notes in the margin, “are there health benefits for eating salicornia? Like you mentioned with the asparagus?”
“There are a lot of bioactive metabolites in salicornia, basically helping prevent hypertension and inflammation. We also ate it because we like it. It’s salty and crunchy.”
Rowan let out a slight laugh. “It’s such a misconception about Indigenous people that every single thing we do is tied to some grander purpose. We can enjoy things for the simple act of enjoying them too,” she mused.
“Right. Is that something you picked up on… working with other Indigenous people?”
Was she really asking her about her experience? Well, fuck it. She thought it would be interesting to know.
“That seems to be a universally Indigenous experience. The result of all that romanticization and mysticism about us,” Rowan laughed as she wiggled her fingers like a magician, her pen bobbing up and down in her hand. “Not all of us talk to raccoons or have weeping willow trees for grandmothers.”
Juniper couldn’t help but laugh. “So true.”
Rowan smiled warmly at her. “Junie, really though, this place is amazing. This is like an ethnobotanist’s experimental playground.”
Juniper had never really thought of herself as an ethnobotanist. Sure, she studied the relationships between plants and humans, her Tribe specifically, attempting to catalog all their medicinal, spiritual, cultural, and practical uses of plants.
That still felt like too formal of a title, one earned through formal education.
“Maybe,” she ventured.
Juniper caught herself looking contemplatively at Rowan for a few seconds, and she realized Rowan had been doing the same to her. She launched back into teaching mode and took a few steps further.
Turning back on her heels, she asked, “What do you know about ethnobotany?”
“A little. I double majored in ecology, mostly coastal wetlands… along with public policy.”
There it was, more evidence of the very different paths their lives had taken over the last fifteen years. Juniper’s automatic response would normally be to shut down or start up her snarkiness again. Instead, she embraced her openness to learn something from Rowan.
“Can I see your notes? I’m just curious.”
“Sure,” Rowan offered her notebook.
Juniper flipped through the pages, scanning each one thoroughly.
Rowan had drawn a schematic for each row of the garden, notating key information Juniper had shared, like the names and approximate or expected numbers of each plant, descriptions of the way they looked during the cycle of growing they were in, and even little drawings and labels for each one.
Juniper couldn’t figure out anything to say.
She was actually speechless, for once. She simply looked up at Rowan.
“I do take this seriously,” Rowan offered delicately, almost like she was anticipating the next question at the edge of Juniper’s lips.
“Do you… why do you…” Juniper scrunched her eyebrows together and tried to formulate a question, somewhere lost in Rowan’s softened, deep brown eyes she couldn’t look away from.
“This is what they teach you in ecology when you walk the land, to take accurate field notes, with lots of descriptions and sketches. You’re supposed to create a full mental map of everything you see so you can reference it later.
I haven’t done this in a while, but it seemed like a good thing to do with everything you were… teaching me.”
Another unspoken question answered as if she still knew her like the back of her hand. Perhaps more importantly, she answered those questions as if she knew the way Juniper needed her to – gently, thoughtfully.
Juniper pressed the notebook into her chest before realizing what she was doing. Like all the notes, sketches, and intention held in that notebook were calling toward her own heart. “Here,” she quickly pushed the notebook off her chest and back toward Rowan. “Thanks for letting me look.”
Juniper started to walk again, attempting to put distance between herself and whatever she had just felt with every step.
“You haven’t had any help doing all of this?” Rowan asked without moving.
Juniper stopped walking and turned around to face Rowan, happier with the distance.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that at all. Ancestors are always there to guide if you listen. And you can learn a lot from the teachings of plants.”
“Well, I mean, yeah,” Rowan began to intellectualize before stopping at the sight of Juniper’s lifted eyebrow. “Of course,” she offered quickly, “I just mean physically day in and day out. This is the product of your labor.” Rowan waved around at the acre brimming with plants for emphasis.
“It is.”
“I have to admit I’m pretty blown away right now,” Rowan said, furrowing her brows in awe.
“Is that so shocking?” Juniper quipped.
“No,” Rowan drew out cautiously, “that’s not at all what I’m saying. What I’m saying is this is probably the most impressive feat I’ve ever seen one person accomplish.”
“Thanks,” was all Juniper could muster, because yeah, it had been hard fucking work.
And also, she was still teetering somewhere between uncertainty about why she wanted what was happening between them to keep happening and then wanting desperately to reinforce her outer shell so that it stopped happening.
Being too amenable to Rowan’s warm energy felt like she was running the risk of revealing too much, more to herself than to anyone else.
“I’m trying to wrap my head around this timeline. You just started getting paid for this?” Rowan prodded.
“Technically I haven’t even gotten my first paycheck yet. I think that comes Friday,” Juniper said with a hint of a laugh.
Rowan paused and furrowed her brows again. “What’s your other job?”
“Only Fans,” Juniper deadpanned.
Rowan raised her eyebrows quickly but dropped them right away.
“No, I’m just kidding. I run my mom’s food truck,” she said as she jabbed an elbow in Rowan’s direction. She couldn’t help but seize that opportunity to tease. Teasing, the age-old Native way to show someone you like them. No, that couldn’t be right. That you’re… cool with them.
“I mean I support that too, 100%, but damn, yeah you got me,” Rowan laughed, then her gaze softened. “You do all this unpaid during the week and then run the food truck every weekend?”
Juniper cleared her throat. “Mhm.”
“Did you… go to school for this?” Rowan asked tentatively.
“That’s a long story,” Juniper confessed, but just enough of a confession to answer the question without divulging any more information than was necessary.
She didn’t want to add any more to that explanation, about how her plans had gotten so derailed, about her self-consciousness over how far away she was from where she wanted to be.
Especially not to someone who had advanced degrees from prestigious schools who just confirmed she was equally knowledgeable in ecology as she was law.
Juniper wanted to keep riding the high she had been experiencing this morning for a little longer. She wouldn’t blame herself for that.
“I will say, everything I needed to know, I learned from the land,” she added before turning to walk again, this time less in an effort to distance herself from what she had been feeling and more in an effort toward feeling something else entirely.
Something undefined as of yet, but perhaps something positive nonetheless.
◆◆◆
Rowan continued to follow Juniper on her very thorough tour, jotting down as much of the detailed information for each new plant as she could.
She had a lot to learn and that excited her, a lot.
Somewhere around the middle of the tour, she felt some of their previous tension dissipate, iciness thaw, as they each became more comfortable with the other as who they are now.
It had become evident that they both wanted to share and wanted to learn, and that felt comfortably like old times, without the burden of the pain that had previously come with it.
And somewhere else around the middle of the tour, as they had gotten lost in a very nerdy conversation about saline and non-saline environments, a spark re-ignited somewhere much deeper inside of her.
She struggled to admit to herself that the spark was less about the content matter, as deeply fascinating as she found that, and more about the tour guide, who seemed to be an endless well of knowledge, perspective, and insight.
She found that downright captivating. That, however, felt more dangerous by the minute.
When they reached the far edge of the garden, she watched Juniper beam like a literal ray of sunshine as she knelt down to admire the loose clusters of wildflowers dotting the landscape in various shapes, heights, and colors.
“I didn’t plant this part of the garden to serve a real purpose, I guess other than to spark Indigenous joy.”