Saturday, June 28, 2008

Holy Berry







I went strawberry picking with Katy last week. It seems fun enough, reaching under the leaves for those beautiful red summer jewels... First one berry, then two, plop into the basket, and then, well, maybe a few don't make it to the basket...munch, munch...yum. I like to go early in the morning, and Katy's old enough now where she's okay with a 7:30am drive to the farm ( occasionally I have to bribe her with a stop at Dunkin Donuts for a bagel!!!)

The dirt road hits my feet as we emerge from the car. Ahhhhhhh. Nothing but birds, bugs, and everything is so greeeeeeen. I take a deep breath and savor the aroma of farm. Yes. Not-huge-piles-of-cow-poop-farm, just the smell of Mother Earth as she invites us to pick our first share of summer fruit. And I am transformed- called back to a place and time where cars and cell phones didn't exist- where birds sing and the warm breeze kisses my face. I am home. I take Katy's hand and we stop at the chickens and goats and say hello. They're perfectly content pecking, chewing, laying about. I am jealous :). I am blessed that my daughter knows about goats and chickens, how they live and what their contribution is to us.

The blessings continue as we walk down to the strawberry fields. Maybe a handful of people are there, early risers who, like me, enjoy the world before 9am. And I feel like I have entered a sanctuary in a church. There is minimal noise. People nod hello to us, and I nod back, acknowledging that this is a beautiful place and the earth has been so good to us this year with all of these delicious strawberries.

We pick away- or at least I do- Katy finds many reasons not to pick ( see "Drama" on a future post!) but she helps me look for the ruby red berries and weaves a story about having a berry party, with shortcake and berry juice. I pick in record time- 4 quarts in 20 minutes, because we have a commitment later in the morning and we need to be home for 9am. But as I'm picking, I'm acutely aware that each berry I pick is a gift. A gift from a source that is beyond our capacity to grasp fully- a source that moves in cycles, in seasons, in death and life- THE source. I have a feeling that this event is not so removed from going to church. We are worshipping and revering the Earth-, and each berry reminds me that I must give, too. Not only should I share these berries with friends, but I should share the experience of the farm, I should share my time with my daughter, I should share good things with everyone because the Earth has shared with me.

So thank you, Parlee Farms. Thank you to all of the farmers and people who till the soil, who grow berries and vegetables with love and attention. We'll make our pilgrimage back for blueberries. And raspberries, and apples, and pumpkins, too.