MedBouda

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I grew up on a Casablanca in Morocco with my family of five. Life was simple. The vast fields bore witness to our curiosity, and as kids, we often took to the expansive backyard for our adventures. As we got older we worked the land we lived on. It demanded tilling, planting, caring, fertilizing, and harvesting. To repeat the process, it demanded rest. I learned there is no other way to successfully farm than by obeying the rules of the land. Infractions of these rules meant poor harvest or poor crops, and we knew having either meant scrimping in the next season.