The Living Bridge
Understanding Life at the Village Scale
When I walk through my neighborhood, I’ve become something of an urban forager. I’ve learned a few simple tenets that make this small ritual both possible and good:
- Things on the roadside of the fence are fair for picking.
- Don’t take more than you will eat.
- Share your bounty.
- Leave no trace; don’t break people’s trees or things.
- Only a few steps into a yard.
You’d be amazed what grows in plain sight: figs, apples, pears, cherries, peaches—food, everywhere. This is not a fantasy of abundance; it is a reminder that abundance already lives among us. Food is the living bridge between the earth and our bodies, between giving and receiving, between care and community.
What if our whole food system followed these same forager’s tenets? What if, instead of extracting profit, we cultivated nourishment as a public good?
1. Community Abundance (Milestone One)
We begin at the level of the block, the neighborhood, the shared garden. This is where the food bridge grows roots again. Community gardens, urban gleaning networks, and neighborhood food forests become the first layer of a living commons.
Ritual: Plant together. Eat together. Compost together. These are acts of belonging, not ownership.
Protection: Land must be held as common ground. Let not the soil be sold again and again to the highest bidder. Guard the plots with trust-deeds written in the name of the folk who tend them. Keep the ground free of claim or trade, so that no hand may own what all hands need.
Funding Shift: Redirect existing city landscaping budgets and urban development grants toward edible landscaping, seed libraries, and food forest maintenance.
2. Public Food Infrastructure (Milestone Two)
The second milestone is scale. Once food is treated as shared wealth, we need systems that can carry it—distribution, storage, preparation—all organized for nourishment, not profit.
Imagine if every town had a publicly funded kitchen, a free-food café, or a “food commons” hub where meals, education, and celebration intertwine.
Ritual: Break bread in public. Cooking becomes a civic act—a way of keeping the bridge between Earth and us alive and warm.
Protection: Hold the works of food in clear sight. Let no shadow deals or hidden chains creep in. Keep the books open; make the measure of all trade and giving plain as day. If we feed one another in trust, then trust must be the wall that stands watch.
Funding Shift: Transition agricultural subsidies away from industrial monocrops and toward community-supported agriculture, cooperative mills, and shared kitchen programs.
3. The Commons of Nourishment (Milestone Three)
The third step is to root this way of being so deeply that food is no longer a commodity, but a shared inheritance. No one owns it. Everyone tends it. It’s a living cycle of gratitude, not a chain of supply and demand.
Ritual: Harvest festivals, shared meals, giving thanks before eating—rituals that remind us food is a conversation with the Earth.
Protection: Bind the food trusts together, as one wide shield. No market hand shall unmake what the people have made whole. Let the charter of the commons be carved in strong words—not for sale, not for spoil, not for greed. This is the bread-right of all.
Funding Shift: Phase in a universal food dividend—redirecting a portion of wealth from speculative markets and military budgets into publicly supported food infrastructure.
The Invitation
When I reach for a fig on my morning walk, I’m reminded: this was grown by sunlight, soil, water, and time. None of those charged me a dime. The tree asked only that I not take too much, that I not harm it, that I share.
That’s the economy I want to live in—one that sees food as the sacred bridge between all life, and treats it accordingly. It’s not a utopia. It’s a shift in imagination. And it starts with the simplest act: reaching out, taking only what we need, and giving thanks.