Riches

Ismael went into the woods near his ranch, El Ojo de Agua, to help us find some leaf litter to use as fertilizer for our garden. He knew a place where trees had been felled and sawn into boards years before. Now the bed of sawdust had rottened into soil.

With every swing of his mattock he dug a foot into the ground bringing up a pile of dirt the texture of moist cornmeal. "¡Ire!" Look at this, he exclaimed with every new strike. I felt like we were mining black gold. This well composted sawdust is just what we need in the garden to help loosen the clay soil and lower the pH.

I was working nearby scooping already heaped leaf litter into a used feed sack. In my hand I noticed a cup shaped object about the size of a pingpong ball. "What is this?" I asked in Spanish and put it in his calloused palm.

"Oh, it comes from the trees. It's dirt," he said as he crumbled with his fingers.

"Ire." Again he dug another deep scoop of delicious earth. Now I had half of a nut in my hand; it reminded me of a small black walnut shell.

"Look at this," I said as I handed it over.

"Nogal," he responded. I looked around for the familiar nut tree. He pointed to our left, "It's over there."

We continued working; him diging, me filling large bags. "They say soil is richest if there are many different kinds of leaves and organic matter in it," Ismael informed me.

"Yes, it's true for people, too. Those who are friends with many different kinds of people are the richest in love."

"Estoy de acuerdo," he agreed.