The nourishment of pecans
The pecan trees remind us that “all thriving is mutual.”
Every fall the trees in my neighborhood rain food. Ripe pecans litter the sidewalks and yards and hang ready from limbs. It’s our annual reminder that nature has always provided for its own, and that nourishment has not always been found at the supermarket, flown in from far away farms and processing plants.
Nourishment is right here, in abundant clusters of pecans. And nature provides it as both a gift and a responsibility.
As I gather baskets of ripe nuts, I think of my grandma and how she sent us out with pillowcases to gather as many pecans as we could carry. Back at her kitchen table, we’d take turns operating the spring-loaded nutcracker and extracting the pecan meat that granny would make into pies, candies, and spiced nut mixes (my favorite).
If we managed to bring home enough, there would be pies to eat and pies to give to neighbors. We were so proud to deliver fresh goodies and proclaim that “we picked the pecans ourselves!”
Granny took good care of those trees and cherished her neighbors and the trees and the neighbors nourished her in turn.
“All thriving is mutual,” according indigenous scientist and author Robin Wall Kimmerer. And the pecan trees sing to me of this each year. They sustained my grandmother as they sustain me now and have sustained the peoples of this land for hundreds of years.
Indigenous foodways
The indigenous peoples of this land and all lands relied heavily on local and seasonal foods. Their diets were diverse, incorporating a variety of plant and animal foods available in their immediate surroundings. This reliance was not just about sustenance—it was deeply intertwined with cultural and spiritual practices. Foods were seen as gifts from nature, connecting communities to their land and ancestors.
And indigenous communities practiced sustainable harvesting methods and land stewardship, ensuring that their food sources remained abundant for future generations. They understood the basic reciprocity required by nature.
“Never take the first. Never take the last. Take only what you need. Take only that which is given. Never take more than half. Leave some for others. Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.
Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken. Share. Give thanks for what you have been given. Give a gift, in reciprocity for what you have taken. Sustain the ones who sustain you and the earth will last forever.” —Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass
Seasonality and intentionality played a critical role in customs of harvesting, watering, preserving, and growing, with each having its time and place. There was a time to help grow, a time to provide to the trees, a time to allow the natural world to tend to its own processes, too—the squirrels to have their bounty so that they helped plant the next trees, the ground to have its bounty to develop the rich mulch that would preserve the roots all winter.
And yes, a time for the local people to harvest, dry, smoke, cure, and store to sustain themselves through the winter months.
Pecans as remembering
Today, as I forage pecans with my children, crack them one by one, and return the shells to our compost and mulch, I hope to provide a small bridge between past and present. To honor and remember my granny and how her pecan trees helped forge relationships. And to appreciate the resilience and ingenuity of indigenous food systems and seasonal, local, natural nourishment.
And when we dish up a big slice of pecan pie and deliver slices to our friends and neighbors, we keep our relationships healthy, forge bonds with one another and with the natural world that sustains us and the trees that —year after year for centuries—toss gifts abundantly right at our feet.