The kid I used to be could only see an ageing man needing to fill the lonely gap in his retirement by growing silent herbs on his  balcony. The kid I became later understood that this is the normal continuity of the 10,000 years of history of our agricultural revolution. The kid I turned out to be today understands that he was a man maintaining a land to which he is loyal, a land that was his even when it is scattered in some metallic cans here and there on a balcony. He embraced his land in his house, consumed its offerings, and made them part of him. Today, that same land embraces him, as he becomes once again part of her.