A Grandfather Kneels Down: Food, Soil And Bitcoin


A little boy digs in the dirt for the “Source of the Seed.”

I was young, probably around four years old when Grandpa Jones held my hand and led me down the steps of the farmhouse porch. It was covered, had comfortable wooden chairs, and it had a sense of peace to it.

As I climbed down the stairs, hand in hand with Grandpa, we started walking toward the family garden. We walked across prairie grass that was their natural landscaping. This grass had been there in this state for hundreds of years before that day of learning and wisdom.

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