occupied by the crop was not as low as one might think. I read that
Native Americans in the Southwest grew remarkable desert gardens
with little or no water. And that Native South Americans in the
highlands of Peru and Bolivia grow food crops in a land with 8 to 12
inches of rainfall. So I had to wonder what our own pioneers did.

In 1987, we moved 50 miles south, to a much better homestead with
more acreage and an abundant well. Ironically, only then did I grow
my first summertime vegetable without irrigation. Being a low-key
survivalist at heart, I was working at growing my own seeds. The
main danger to attaining good germination is in repeatedly
moistening developing seed. So, in early March 1988, I moved six
winter-surviving savoy cabbage plants far beyond the irrigated soil
of my raised-bed vegetable garden. I transplanted them 4 feet apart
because blooming brassicas make huge sprays of flower stalks. I did
not plan to water these plants at all, since cabbage seed forms
during May and dries down during June as the soil naturally dries
out.

That is just what happened. Except that one plant did something a
little unusual, though not unheard of. Instead of completely going
into bloom and then dying after setting a massive load of seed, this
plant also threw a vegetative bud that grew a whole new cabbage
among the seed stalks.

With increasing excitement I watched this head grow steadily larger
through the hottest and driest summer I had ever experienced.
Realizing I was witnessing revelation, I gave the plant absolutely
no water, though I did hoe out the weeds around it after I cut the
seed stalks. I harvested the unexpected lesson at the end of