A Stroll Through Goodness

Arriving at our destination, one sunny afternoon, we found what did not at first appear to be an herb farm. It was profuse with coconut trees and wild grass. We were there, invited by the owner, to glean valuable information on indian herbs, their names, and capabilities

After meeting up with the herbalist, Imba Kumar (imba means happy in Tamil) he showed us the large selection of plant growing there.  Many different shapes and varieties dappled his 12 acres of land. For instance, this cross leaf plant.

Upon seeing this one for some reason I immediately thought of Seth. Sorry, I cannot remember the names or uses of these plants, there were so many and I can only remember a couple of them.

This tour provided the very first breadfruit tree I have ever seen whether in pictures or life.  Unfortunately, it is not breadfruit season thus denying us the pleasure of sampling this fruit.

Also presented to our five senses was the fig tree.  This variety of fig dangled bunches of figs like lures of the trunk of the tree, and lucky for us one of the many fruits was ripe. However, like all lures it failed to meet my expectations.

One of the boys we took with us gave us a hand, literally speaking. He had cut his finger and breaking a leaf from a particular plant we applied the oozing milk onto his wound. He yowelled when we put it on, and I have heard nothing about it since.

Every second that we spent at Imba's place, Katie was his inescapable shadow pestering him for all the info he could (and could not) give. Willingly, he filled her ears to overflowing. Whereas the biggest obstruction was he knew only the Tamil names of most of his plants.

While Katie was getting her fill of herb talk, Mani got his fill too. Not only this berry bush but other fruits and berries won his devoted and diligent attention, that is of course until there were no berries left.  There were supposed to be berries in his hand but they mysteriously vanished and Mani was left speechless/mouth full.

Then you never will guess what occupied my time and thoughts during this extended period of instructive education necessary to the temporal constitution of bodily health. Yes, I was hunting...for delectable tidbits especially in the shape of coconuts. At first I strained my tension span, trying to keep up with Katie and Imba, attempting a forced interest in their conversation. He did not have to tell us, me and Mani, twice though, when he told us to help ourselves to the mangoes or anything else we could find...then all impediments, mental and physical, melted away like ice in a furnace as we plowed into everything edible we could find. The biggest mistake I made was I had eaten lunch right before we came.
After stuffing ourselves and pockets and with our taxi bulging with plant cuttings, seeds, and fruit (we had to lash some on the top there was so much) we returned to reality.  
The moral is that people are like radios, they either receive or transmit.  If you are with a receiver, give, but if you are with a giver, receive. Luckily, I sent that day with givers. Okay, that smacks too much of Mr. Skimpole. Lets just say that blessed is he that giveth for he receiveth, and blessed his he that receiveth for he enjoyeth!
Post Host = David = ? = Receiver = Enjoyer. If you give the me anything, give me time (or thyme) because you never know when I will post again.