July 1-3, 2024 – A FIELD DAY IN THE PUMPKIN PATCH
Each year, the summer brings a bevy of new vegetables, including the rich array of tempting varieties of Chubeza’s squash
This morning, it rained once again. It didn’t claim the First Rain title, which was already clinched several weeks ago. But we’ve now had a more serious rain, bent on continuing intermittently for several days. Hopefully this is a real rain, the kind that just keeps on coming and leaves lots of mud behind. To do our part to bring on the rain, this week’s Chubeza Newsletter is dedicated to both rain and the “after- the-rain” smell. Enjoy!
Even with today’s asphalt-paved life in the fast lane, we somehow still maintain a basic yearning for rain and its life-giving wetness. When I searched for answers to the question “what is that smell after rain?” I found scientific explanations (to follow). Yet they don’t touch the palpable craving for that smell, the memories it evokes of childhood and home, of a time and place where we started to grow, put down roots and reach a certain starting point. Perhaps this is why the smell after the rain stirs in one’s heart a feeling of renewal and a fresh, new start.
The smell of rain is wisely produced and created for us (and for other living creatures, as you will soon see) by nature’s main players: plants, microbes, and rocks. In nature, this scent essentially has two main components: geosmin and petrichor.
Geosmin (literally “earth smell”) is an organic compound produced by various microorganisms: in water it is algae, in soil it is bacteria. Under hot, dry conditions, these microbes die in the earth, sending out geosmin-laden spores that can remain dormant even over many years of very dry, hot seasons. Once they meet rain and moisture, the geosmin smell is augmented, the spores disperse into the air through the raindrops, and emit the “rain-like” scent—essentially, the smell of earth. Our love for this scent is important to the microbes, who need us to come close and toy with their spores to spread them. And indeed, the human nose is extremely sensitive to geosmin and can detect it even at minimal concentrations.
One of the animals most sensitive to the smell of geosmin is the camel. That comes as no great surprise, since this animal has a profoundly acute need to pick up even the slightest trace of the scent of water and moisture. Camels can detect water from an incredible distance (up to 80 km!) thanks to their heightened sensitivity to the geosmin scent. In camel terms, it is a matter of life and death. Also, many soil dwellers - dust mites, earthworms and other burrowers - are also attracted to the scent of geosmin and assist the microbes in their mission to disperse.
This group of microbes, actinomycetes (specifically streptomyces), is a vital group of soil-dwelling bacteria for producing antibiotics, anti-inflammatory and anti-fungal substances from natural sources. Perhaps our attraction to their odor is not only pleasant nostalgia for a time in life when there was a wet plot of soil nearby, but also a key tool in our attraction to substances that protect us – especially throughout the cold, rainy winter.
But this smell is not always desirable. Water purification facilities aim to remove it from the groundwater which makes its way to your taps. Winemakers try to fight it to prevent a bouquet of mildew in their vino, and even pharmaceutical companies demur from marketing earthy-tasting medicines. A groundbreaking study on the composition and formation of geosmin aspires to solve that problem. In Chubeza’s boxes, you will savor the geosmin in our beets, the secret ingredient to their earthy taste.
The second component in this scent is Petrichor, whose dramatic name translates to something like “divine rock blood” (from Greek petra “stone” + ichor, the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology). This impressive term, which nowadays means “the nice fragrance accompanying rain after a dry spell,” was coined by two Australian researchers, Bear and Thomas, in an article they published in the 1960’s. Various plants secrete oils into the atmosphere, which accumulate upon clay-like soil, rocks and stones. During dry spells, a greater amount accumulates on the soil and rocks, and once the humidity rises and the rain falls, they are released into the air, wafting their scent throughout.
Bear and Thomas really wanted the petrichor to explain the special phenomenon of rapid growth and blooming in desert areas after short rains. They tried to show that there is something in this oil compound that accelerates growth. To their surprise, they discovered exactly the opposite: the petrichor inhibits and slows down germination and growth. They believe this to be a means for the seeds to protect themselves from short rains followed by a dry spell. Germination without additional watering leads to the demise of the seedling, while in its germinal and non-germinated state, it still carries the potential to wait for a real rain. A strong, serious rain will wash the oil off the seeds and prevent the delay in germination.
In recent decades, we are discovering the possible destructive impact of rain, and I don’t mean natural disasters like tsunamis or floods. Rain, after all, encounters what is in the environment, and the moisture intensifies these scents, causing its own reactions. If the pervading air carries unpleasant smells, they will be amplified by the rain’s moisture. Fuel odors, garbage, dust, sewage— all return with a vengeance in the rain. Pollution, as well, is collected in the tiny raindrops, morphing into dangerous acids which provide disastrous irrigation that pollutes plants, lakes and the animals that reside within. By adding more trees, specifically in noxious-smelling concrete-paved cities, and decreasing the contaminates that we release into the atmosphere, the scales will be tipped in favor of the petrichor scent that stirs within us a longing for hearth and home. It’s worth it, don’t you think?
Wishing you all warmth of heart, quenching of thirst, and the lovely, simple joy of rain which will be the harbinger of the war’s end, the return of the hostages to their homes, and better days for all.
Alon, Bat-Ami, Dror, Einat and the entire Chubeza team
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Summer officially arrives in three weeks on June 21st, but though this spring has been very pleasant and (mostly) not-too-hot,
FIESTA MELONS / Sylvia Plath
In Benidorm there are melons,
Whole donkey-carts full
Of innumerable melons,
Ovals and
A box of fresh and delightful organic produce from our field to your home!
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