Dreams of wild leeks

Roots & greens of the wild leek

Pungent smell of wild leeks permeates house.  Wild leek spirits dance around the kitchen, tangle in your hair, sneak in your newly washed socks.  With leeks on the loose we have no hope of remaining tame, civilized.  We bare our wolf-teeth at the moon and howl, our paws rough against the forest floor.  We leap over logs and hunt pink-eyed rabbits and terrified squirrels.

Wild leeks bring you to the riverbed of your life.  No turning back now.  Either you leap on your homemade raft and maneuver the rapids or you buy pale imitations of the leek kingdom at the grocery store.  Either you nicely spray your hair, patting it into respectability, or you dash into the wind, curls flying everywhere, wolf paws at the wheel of your destiny.

Some folks call them “ramps”.  Same thing.  They refuse to sit docile in the refrigerator after washing.  The sniff everywhere.  Soon your bath water fills with leeks.  Soon you’re dreaming leek-dreams.  Soon you’re singing silently in a foreign tongue of long white roots and green banners.  Soon you’ve stepped out of the comfortable jeans of your life into something wild, exotic, untamed.

Beware of eating the wild ones. 

The wild ones who have never known the cardboard of grocery stores or the hypnotized stare of the produce workers who daydream beyond the four walls of the supermarket kingdom.  In their daydreams they lean against sleek cars and dream of beautiful women.  They never imagine the power of wild vegetables, the way wild food grants access into forbidden kingdoms, the way their long roots beckon like fingers:  “Come closer, closer, closer now…”

Eating from the earth, dirt still close by, the heart shivers to remember beyond the skin we’ve created, beyond our respectability, beyond our genetic engineering. 

Eat wild leeks at your own risk.  Prepare to be changed.  Prepare to be forever slightly pungent, remembering a distant dream of midnight howling from the green banner of yourself.


10 thoughts on “Dreams of wild leeks

  1. LOL! Before reading this, I had no idea there was such a thing as a ‘wild leek’!

    They sure do look different to the ones we get at the store, which are much thicker – and even those are also quite… um… strong-smelling, shall we say? I can’t *imagine* how much more potent the WILD ones are!

    I’ll never look at a leek the same way again. Giggle… 😉

  2. Kathy, I know this place very well…balancing on the razor’s edge. On one side, respectible well patted hair. On the other….heart shivering, curls wild in the wind, pulling!!
    Wonderful. Gotta love those wild leeks!!

  3. Pingback: Wild about wild leeks « Lake Superior Spirit

  4. Dear wild leek lovers and dreamers and newcomers to the pungent world… I wish that you all might smell the distinct smell of wild leeks in your lifetimes. May the wild blood of its onion-like essence run through your own bloodstreams. And my goodness Jeannie that is one cool video!

    PS Barbara…I think it counts. As long as the leeks were wild before being planted in Jonathan’s back yard. If they came from seed they’re bound to be good, but, no not wild enough to make you howl at the moon.

    Having just finished some wild leek soup, don’t come visitin’ tonight. You might just here some crazy howling. LOL!

    • Gosh, Barbara, you probably make as good of a meal as I do! I just can tell a whopper of a story about our meals. 🙂 But, please, do come by to visit some day! We shall sink our teeth into something wild…

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