The Moment We Are In

It is a dance the birds and I do.  Who can get to the ripe raspberries first in the mornings. Who can pick the most. Who will know first when they are ripe again in the afternoon. They lead, waking with the dawn, and I follow. Still sleepy from the warmth of my bed.  The first berry sharp in my mouth, then sweet. Like bird song mellowing as I enter the day. As I allow myself the luxury of being here, in this one moment, fully. 

There is an immediacy to this luxury of mine, my breakfast is in front of me. Small red and black druplets, flavor, nutrition, freshness, just by reaching out my hand. There is a dependency too. An awareness that my food comes from the soil, comes from the sweat of my brow.  The work I do and the blessing of Providence tangibly providing sustenance for me each day.

Ronde de Nice Squash and Garlics will make a delicious lunch.
The raspberries provided breakfast while I picked, those in the colander will get put up for winter.