Wildlands (Audio Script)

Stories

“Yeah, we actually use comfrey as an accelerant for the compost.

Along with our little friends in the ground, of course.”

“Oh, really?

I didn’t realize you could accelerate it.

Thought it was a totally natural process.”

“It is, yeah.

But the comfrey leaves are super high in nitrogen, which is helpful since we tend to have way more carbon material in our compost pile.

Lots of cardboard from deliveries, you know.”

“Nice.

And if I remember right, you guys are starting to experiment with hydroponics?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well… impressed is maybe a better word.

You’d be surprised how many people just aren’t interested in how or where their food is grown.

It’s not often we get politicians out here asking about hydroponics.

We really appreciate you coming by and checking out what we do here.”

“Thank you for doing what you’re doing.

This food equity action plan I’m working on is just…

I mean, it’s like you said.

A lot of people just don’t think about these things.

They don’t realize that the entire east side of the city has become a food desert.”

“Well, that’s where you step in, right, Mr. City Council Member?”

“I’m unfortunately fighting a bit of an uphill battle trying to get the council to take notice, but I think working with and supporting farms like yours could really help a lot of the people in the city dealing with food insecurity.”

“Well, let’s just hope for the best and, until then, keep getting our hands dirty. Which, speaking of, is exactly what I have in store for you.

Let’s find… ah, there she is!”

This place is incredible.

Not a single acre’s going to waste.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen resourcefulness like this.

Well, not on a local level, anyway.

Integrating animals, crop rotation.

It’s like the farm itself is a living organism.

And… there you are.

The mastermind of this whole operation, kneeling down in the soft brown soil, wearing gloves two sizes too big and a bandanna around your neck.

“Hey, Tania!

Got a work buddy for you!”

You don’t look up at us right away.

You’re too focused on what you’re doing, the little seedlings you’re carefully transporting into the ground.

Your brow is furrowed, your jaw set.

There’s an air of… intensity about you.

But I already knew that about you.

You wipe the back of your hand across your forehead, a little soil smearing across your skin. You rise up from the ground to greet us, but you refuse to look me in the eye.

“Tania, this is—”

“I know who he is.”

“Hello.”

“You two… know each other?”

“She’s shown up to a few council meetings.

She’s known for being a… force of nature.

”

“That she is.”

“So, passed the food equity plan you promised yet?

Or are you still working on the optics?”

“The plan is actually why I’m here.”

“Okay, I’m sensing some tension here.

I can assign different partners if it’s a problem.”

“No. It’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“We can work together, can’t we?

We have before.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you both to it, then.

Please don’t rip his head off, he’s here to help.”

“Duly noted…”

“So… onion seedlings?”

“Onion seedlings.

You know how to do this, right?”

“I’m a little rusty.

Used to help out on my dad’s farm back in the country—”

“Here.

Gloves.

You’ve got to be gentle with these.

Now you take a seedling from the tray here…”

You haven’t changed at all.

Not that I expected you to.

You’ve never let me live down joining the council.

You saw it as a kind of betrayal like I was intentionally rubbing shoulders with the people contributing to the problems.

The community’s voices weren’t being heard, and I wanted to make sure they had someone advocating for them.

I’ve always been of the mind that the only way to change the system is from within.

And you’ve always been a little more… radical in your approach.

Big, loud gestures.

Attention-grabbing protests.

We may have different tactics, but we’re working towards the same goal.

I pick up one of the cubes of soil from the tray… and it crumbles in my hand.

“Ah—shit.”

“Careful! They’re delicate.

Try again.

Gently this time.”

You hand me another one.

These gloves are too clunky.

I watch you place your seedling in the soil and carefully pat down the earth around it.

“We’re still on the same side you know.”

“Are we?

I’ve seen it happen before.

Grassroots-types get sucked into the system, then they don’t follow through on their promises.

You know how I feel about greenwashing politicians.”

“I’m not greenwashing. I… It’s difficult, okay?

The public’s behind the motion, sure.

But it takes a lot more than that to get anything passed.

I’m trying everything I can.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“I just… The petitioning, emailing, negotiations: it needs to be done, I get it.

But… roadblock after roadblock?

It gets exhausting.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know how you have the patience.”

“I don’t know, you’ve seen how heated I can get in meetings.

Defending your ideas half of the time.”

“I suppose you can’t go getting arrested, huh?

Like I did at the climate protest?”

“You were peacefully protesting like everyone else.

That never should have happened.”

Your gaze softens, and my skin prickles with… something.

I can’t put my finger on it.

I’ve known you for years and I’ve always admired your passion for your community.

I wish more people did.

When we do work together… it’s great.

Well, when it’s something we have in common.

I can’t say I don’t like you… but, our differences have too often gotten in the way.

“Thanks for bailing me out, by the way.

I wasn’t expecting that.”