These baby birds are in the tree right outside the house...not yet making a noise...just looking up to the sky...their mouths opened, waiting to be fed...what a job a mother robin has...her babies constantly needing worms...their eyes sealed shut...and their mouths wide open. I do not know how she remains sane during this time...what constance, perseverance...unconditional love she provides for her young.
I feel I have something to learn from her. That there are moments when we do need to push through...for love of young...or love of self...or love for another...that if I keep weeding...the weeds will grow back...the purslane, goranzola(sp)...we will weed and next week they will be back...and yet if we don't weed...our crops will be over taen...and so every week...we weed and weed some more...for love of the vegetables to come...and we go out to the potatoes and walk the rows...looking for the potatoe beetle...and squishing them between our fingers...their insides exploding as they meet their unsupecting death...and they will keep reproducing and tomorrow we will go out and squish some more...our hands turning yellow with their deaths...as if we never killed any at all...and yet it seems like an act of love...love for the land...love for the people who will eat this food...(though some i find challenging to love)...and so we will continue to work the land...and love every moment of it...
This week I am in charge of distributing the vegetables...a new place for learning to occur on the farm...we shall see
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Ah, distributing the produce that your hands have sown, nurtured and harvested. Now the fruits of your labor will begin to nourish those souls that you love and those that you don't! I hope that the nourishment sows seeds of love for all who eat and labor to bring the produce to the table.
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