I have wanted to interview a forager since starting this blog. One visited this week, and traded me a sack of canned food for a few crates of wine. I persuaded him to throw in a story.
Brando’s clothes had many rips. He needed a shower. But he stayed all evening, and made me laugh. I don’t count him as a looter. You will have to decided for yourself.
B: Humans started off as hunter gatherers. Back on Earth our ancestors spent their time picking fruit and clawing bugs from the ground.
That’s no bad thing. Everything was tasty and free. We are built for scavenging, and I’m telling you my lifestyle is a chance to thrive.
I only go to planets where the parsnipheads have won. The kind the Butter Mice aren’t going to get to for a long time. Plants are off the menu. But plenty of now undead settlers brought rabbits and other small game with them. These animals scrape by on what the parsnipheads leave behind.
But they are luxuries. I am after the abandoned tins of food, jars of jam and bottles of fizzy drinks. The packets of dried spelt. Tons of supplies lie around those solar systems floating around your head. You think we should let it rot?
I’m telling you. Ditch your pitchforks, find some forgotten cans, and chill out.
To stop this becoming a lecture, here’s a cool story.
I was on a small moon, covered in luscious jungle. About two thousand people lived there once. The paint flecked off their houses, and water ran through holes in the roofs. A shame.
I found a bag of sugar and a sack of oats on a high shelf. Boiled up the goodies with some river water. Made a tasty breakfast.
From a top floor window I watched the remaining flora. One that had thrived since The Haircut. They had leaves the size of tigers, that joined together like butterfly wings. Long thin ‘hairs’ crawled up the capillaries of each one.
To a parsniphead, these were plates of steak sandwiches. One placed its head between the leaves, mouth wide open wings. Snap! The leaves came together. All that was visible of the diner were two feet.
After breakfast, I continued to add to my can collection. Some of those I gave you today. Most of the buildings lacked the expected non-breathing occupants. The plants leered happily from living rooms and kitchens. The odd hand poked out from a closed set of leaves.
We are all hunter gatherers now.’
