July 16, 1987 - Of Farmstands and FogOf Farmstands and Fog
By PAUL STOUTENBURGH
It's been a long time coming, but
finally here on the East End we have
once again started getting fresh veg-
etables from our roadside stands.
What a wonderful addition they are
to our country living. And what a
variety there are, everything from
the card table with a few boxes of to-
matoes to the elaborate "we have al-
most everything" stand with its re-
frigerated room and digital cash re-
gister.
Tonight we had our first fresh
corn, string beans and new potatoes
with barbecued chicken that couldn't
have been better if we'd dined out.
Of course, we had fresh strawber-
ries, asparagus and peas weeks ago
but the first corn, in my mind, sets
the stage for a wide variety of fruits
and vegetables to come.
It's nice to see some stands are
stepping out and trying new vari-
eties and items. Herbs and flowers
have made a hit on the East End and
the wise grower is taking advantage
of this lucrative market which we all
benefit by.
Today there is no reason not to
have a handsome bouquet on your
table, for now along with the fresh
vegetables you can pick up cut flow-
ers to add that special touch to a
summer meal. Many of us have our
own gardens where zucchini and to-
matoes seem to rule while others
have become almost professional and
grow the whole gamut of crops.
Neighbor Outshines Me
Our neighbor is just such a grower
and he puts me to shame with his
wonderful produce, but I have an ex-
cuse this year. The cows broke
through the fence and had a picnic in
the garden with our fresh vegetables,
all the pears from our trees and half
our raspberries.
Yet I can't blame them; what with
the lack of rain and our pasture turn-
ing brown, it must have been pretty
hard to resist the greenery of the gar-
den just over the fence. Of course,
they chose the day we were away,
and just to let us know how much
they enjoyed it all, they broke in a
second time. My greatest loss was
some pepper plants that a very good
friend of mine had given me. I had
taken care of them so well and they
were doing just fine till those munch-
ing machines cut them off two inches
above the ground.
To console ourselves we decided to
go overnight on our boat and so set
sail to the east. All went well for the
first hour, but then the wind gave out
and we sat and sweltered in 90 -de-
gree temperatures with heavy
humidity hanging about. Luckily we
had power and an automatic pilot, so
we set a course heading east and kept
going.
Barbara and I took shelter in the
shadow of the sail where we dragged
our feet in the cool water as we went
along. We hoped we wouldn't run
into the occasional pink jellyfish we
saw and were amazed at one spot in
the middle of the bay where there
seemed to be a concentration of those
stinging devils. Why they were
there, we couldn't explain.
Jellyfish, of course, are never
pleasant to run into, but should you
or the kids have that misfortune, a
rubbing of meat tenderizer works
quite well to relieve the sting. We
Focus on
Nature
carry it aboard and my daughter
takes it with her to the beach just in
case one of the kids gets stung.
If jellyfish didn't give you such a
hard time, more people would ap-
preciate their beautiful symmetry
and design. When diving, I've often
watched them pulsating along in
their never - ending search for food.
Minute organisms and small fish are
paralyzed by their long stingers and
then brought up into the stomach be-
neath.
Jellyfish Paralyze Prey
Once I came upon one that had two
small fish entrapped, one right up
underneath the umbrella and the
other paralyzed half -way down. At
the ocean I remember people telling
me of stings all over their bodies,
while swimming in the surf. I've
often speculated that stingers from
some jellyfish had been chewed up by
the surf and, still being potent,
caused the bathers their discomfort.
Those never seemed to be as bad as a
direct encounter with a jellyfish, but
nevertheless they were troublesome.
If you remember the haze and
foggy weather we had on the
weekend, you'll understand what we
ran into sailing east. We holed up
west of Mashomack on Shelter Island
and after dinner watched an orange
full moon come up out of the east
while listening to a family of geese
talking off in a distance. Prior to that
we had heard a bobwhite on the
mainland as clear as a bell; how his
voice carried across that still water.
There was no wind and since we had
anchored a distance from shore, we
were not bothered by mosquitoes or
gnats.
The next morning we woke in a
blanket of fog. Not a thing was visi-
ble. It seemed as though you could
walk off the stern of the boat into the
fog, it was so thick. We were alone in
our spacecraft; the water our only
connection to the earth. We actually
talked in a lowered voice, almost af-
raid we'd break the spell that took
over our little ship. I wondered if the
gulls, the terns and the osprey were
also caught in the fog and patiently
waiting for the white veil to lift.
Were their young hungry and, like
all babies, crying out to be fed? There
was no refrigerator for them to run
to. They must sit it out and wait.
Sometimes nature plays a hard
game. My hope was that the young
were plump and fat and could stand
the strain. At about 10 in the morn-
ing the whiteness lifted and our
world once again began to move
about us. It was an experience that
will go down in our own memory log
and one we were glad we hadn't
missed.
By engineer John Cronin:
'Your Home'
from basement to attic
every week, only in
The Suffolk Times
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