Picking Olives Tomorrow

My great-grandfather Josephus was an Italian peasant. When he came to this country, he spent his leisure time growing grapes, making wine, and then consuming it. Back in Italy, I'm sure he had olive trees because I get this deep atavistic pleasure from harvesting them. For the last couple of years, my institution has decided to harvest as many olives as they can from the trees that grow around the campus and make olive oil. So early tomorrow morning, I will be enjoying myself with a little arboriculture. Unlike the solar plants being installed around campus, the effort seems a bit of a stunt. For one thing, the olive oil made last year tastes horrible, like turpentine, just not as poisonous. It apparently won last place in a taste test competition of forty producers in Ionia. It, however, might be useful for other purposes. But it makes a point. Many of us (not me) spend our days trying to figure out sustainable and less carbon-intensive ways of powering the future. Our now less neglected olive trees are a reminder that there are older, but successful approaches to the problem lying dormant all around us. Like the foods that feed our bodies, our external energy use may be healthiest for us with a little locally adapted diversification.