Fruits of the Land

Truffles are unique. They aren’t like fruits that ripen even if separated from a plant: they’re a fungus that stops ripening when removed from the ground.

It was the dead of night, lit only by a canopy of stars and there was a distinct chill in the air as the cloaked figure moved out of the shelter of a clump of trees, a large dog by their side. This land that sat above the woodland already claimed by a farmer, was a rich source of black truffles, one of the richest in the region. This land belonged to nobody but had been nourished and explored by ancient cultures who had lived, loved and danced there for generations before giving their bodies back to the soil, ready to be born again. The 'gentleman' farmer who had grown rich on the treasures the land bestowed had, of course, laid claim to it although no money or contract had ever been exchanged. The figure at the edge of the woods begged to differ.

It had been a tough autumn with gale force winds and lashing rains and now, as the winter queen claimed her throne, it was time to ask the land for help to feed the hungry families and provide fuel for the fires. The dog strained at his leash, the scent of ripe truffles filling his nostrils. His companion threw back her hood, and scooping up a handful of soil, laid her palm flat and blew on it softly. A thick mist began to descend, rolling down the hill towards the farmhouse, enveloping it so that nobody could see in, or out. Dog and woman set to work. His powerful nose scented out the prized truffles and she deftly freed them from the earth, murmuring a blessing of thanks each time she removed one and dropped it gently into her basket. They worked companionably side-by-side as they had so many times before.

As soon as the basket was full, she whistled dog to her and patted his noble head for a job well done. He licked her hand in return. She gazed down at the thick patch of mist and decided to leave it there, it would dissipate by the morning. As she went to cover the strangely shaped treasure in the basket, she marvelled that something so ugly and unremarkable would provide sustenance for her entire community this coming winter. The sale of the truffles would put food on tables, clothes on backs and books into schoolbags. In one night, this woman and her dog had achieved more than any Government could boast.