Life on our kinda farm. Or, life on kinda-our farm. Pastures of thick palm-slicing grass higher than our roof, laying hens, house cats, goats, egrets, pheasants, rock doves, kolea plovers, wild chickens, wild dogs, wild pigs, abandoned and rusting out farm equipment, coffee stands, pineapple, awa, noni, papaya, coconuts, bananas, baseball bat squash, taro, bitter melon, sleeper grass, sweet potatos, wild guava, passionfruit, ti leaves, arrow root, and a scraggly garden of endangered native plants. It has an eerie, Ray Bradburian feeling-- space station meets tropical island meets ghost story.
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| these escaped hunting dogs were so bony and dehydrated they flopped right over where Matt found them, by the chicken coops. |
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| Like father like daughter. |
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| starfruits the size of watermelons! |
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| Starfruit are so excessive- clumps of them right on the branches. Forget grapes, Bacchus. |
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| White perfumy mountain apples |
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| No idea what this is, if it was ripe, or how to eat it. Tasted like rubbery chalk. |
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| Mmm, guava. Just don't look too closely at any -- is that movement?-- seeds. |
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| Uluwehiwehi-- bountiful breadfruit! |
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| our demented carrot crop. |
2 comments:
I am SERIOUSLY much impressed with your photography team, Becca! of course, having adorable kids and other subjects helps, but still - you've got a great eye and snapitude, zusje.
ahhhhhhhhh, the bread fruit. Tomasi used to throw it on a coal fire and burn all the outside of it...then flak it off with a stick. you yummy. another way I'd make it was cut it thin and make like it was french fries. or, after steaming it or cooking in the umu, I'd cut 'em up thinly and fry in some oil and then put garlic salt on it.
wow on the starfruit.
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