(Photo of Craig and me tossing the corn taken by our friend Paul Bingman.)
I spent the last four days on the Olympic Peninsula with my mermaid/merman tribe, celebrating the Corn Harvest at the home of two of our closest friends. Our host grows the best corn in the Pacific Northwest in our humble opinion, even with a terribly rainy summer like we’ve had this year. A few years ago, a spontaneous ritual began which we now recreate each year. Around thirty or so of us formed a line from the garden to the front porch of the house, just as the Saturday night feast was ready to serve. The corn was then harvested and each ear tossed from person to person until it reached those sitting on the front porch who went into a frenzy of corn shucking. From there the ears of corn went into the boiling water on the stove and then to the laden table. All of this, of course, to the tune of some silly chant we made up and the accompaniment of drums and percussion. The corn was sweet, the company nurturing and the drumming and dancing by the fire later that night was inspiring and invigorating. A grand time was had by all.