We children would wave when Bud appeared,
as if from nowhere—
riding his mint-green vintage bicycle
with the deep-set handlebars
and the basket attached to the front for foraging.

We felt special when he paid us any mind.

Bud taught us that thistle flowers sustain—
the purple part, edible.
That the natural spring in the mountains
across from our home
was safe to drink from.
That moss on rocks could be pressed
and sucked from the underside—
water there too.

He loved teaching us about the land,
and we listened with our whole hearts.

We flocked to him to learn his wisdom
and become keepers of it.
Every piece of knowledge
built our survival game up—
living off the land,
a dream come true.
Self-sufficiency, the proof.

Sour grass could be a light snack.
Dandelions, edible too.
But never eat white berries—
or mushrooms.
Better safe with those.

He was a quiet man,
one who deepened our appreciation
and love for nature.

---

Disclaimer:
This story reflects remembered teachings and childhood experiences. Foraging practices vary by region and ecosystem, always research, cross-reference, and harvest responsibly in your own area.

© 2025 Raven | Jasmine on the Grave. All rights reserved.