Fresh Kombucha just poured into reusable containers now sits on a refrigerator shelf.
The pungent scent of culture stains my fingertips.
Here at Las Raices Collective, transition is upon us once again.
K, my roommate and the most vibrant 22-year old activist I have had the pleasure of knowing,
is ready to depart.
Change ~ it's the only constant we can count on.
As the fall wanes into winter, many of my brothers & sisters prepare for southern travels.
The end of the world is beckoning us back,
to the beginning of time.
Me? I'll still bee here.
Making the Kombucha and planting the seeds.
They say that when St. Francis was asked what he'd do if he knew the end of the world were tomorrow, he replied "I'd keep hoeing."
It's the sagest advice & a basket I'm willing to put all of our chicken's eggs into.
