Ripening

Yesterday, David, the cook, handed me a small bowl and asked me to go pick raspberries. It took awhile for me to find enough ripe ones to fill the bowl about half-way, which was no problem really because the garden here is lovely and I enjoy picking berries: peering through the brambles, looking for that shade of red, taking the little berries between thumb and forefinger and pulling very very gently. The ripe ones just fall into your hand. As I walked around and around the row of bushes, I thought--probably for the hundredth time--that enlightenment must be just like that: when conditions are ripe, it simply appears. All of our effort is only to pay pay attention moment to moment.

This morning, I was weeding in the strip of ground between the raspberry patch and the kale patch. Inching my way down the row on my knees I discovered dozens and dozens if not hundreds of ripe berries.

When it cools down a bit, I'll go pick them.