It's interesting watching yourself have your own world view changed.

As I drove to Steve and Fiona Hansons "Permaculture Eden" for my two week design course, I was wondering if after two weeks I'd finally know what to plant with what.  I guess I had permaculture fixated in my head as "hippy gardening", and the only reason I was really going was because the Transition Handbook strongly suggested it was a good thing to do. 

I've alway liked nature - I enjoy hiking on mountains and in forests, but I guess I viewed it as a kind of nice to have thing.  Great to get into, but nothing to do with the real world of people.

Then came the two week immersion, with a fantastic group of intelligent people, coming at the whole topic from different angles.  We had different cultures, ate different foods (I am not, and almost certainly never will be by choice, a Vegan), spoke different native tounges, and came from different backgrounds.  A mix of practical and hopeless (I'm still working on my tree and herb identification), but all with a great desire to learn about the subject.

On day 1, I was sceptical.  All this talk about the people that started it.  By the end of day two I was hooked.  This wasn't hippy, this was really design science!  I was in my element.  By the end of day seven, we were due a break.  I needed it, pleading "my head's full".  But we kept discussing, and kept learning.  By the end of the course, we'd learned all sorts of things, some new, some not so, and could piece it all together.  We were so pleased with our design, and all of us wanted to stay on and build it, and see if it could really be done.  I'm sure we'll all build part of it somewhere.

Before we all left, we held a party, and I drove to the supermarket for beer.  It seemed so strange going into this enormous shop and buying things that we could just grow.

The following day, driving home, I realised that I would never see the world in the same way again.  What had been nice pretty hedges on the way in, had become fabulous edges, full of interaction, co-operation and competition.  What had been nice fields became lifeless deserts, with a monoculture crop standing in a lifeless dead ex-soil supported by pesticides and fertilisers.  And the trees!  Not just satisfying to look at but a source of so much, capable, if managed properly, of sustaining many of our needs.  

When I got back to Ferney-Voltaire, my pensive mood continued.  Who knew there was so much food lying around growing in the town already?  I had thought growing food in town would be really difficult, but know I know that by working with nature, rather than against it, it'll be much easier than we think.