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<\/a>branches, the spirituality of the moment grasped me. \u00a0The canes stuck to my sweatshirt sleeve; the water soaked into my jeans. \u00a0This was the real in all its obstinate presence.<\/p>\nLast February Kate and I did some winter pruning and I cut last year’s canes down to the ground. \u00a0We were late getting this done, but the timing was alright. \u00a0Now, eight months later, those same plants had burst up, some over my head and drooping with golden and red-purple berries.<\/p>\n
The garden, the orchard, the bees each reward us: tomatoes, carrots, onions, apples, cherries, pears, honey. \u00a0A virtuous circle, we care for the soil and the plants and the trees and the hives, they in turn offer something we can eat. \u00a0Eat. \u00a0Think of that. \u00a0This is the true and definitive instance of transubstantiation. \u00a0 Eat this cherry and remember me. \u00a0Eat this Thus, to be among them, feeling them pluck at me, rain water dripping off them onto me is a coarse prayer, a baptism by holy water made clean and pure in the clouds then delivered unto us by the morning rain.<\/p>\n Amen.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Lughnasa \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Harvest Moon Yesterday in the midst of wet raspberry canes, plucking fruit from thorny yet fragile branches, the spirituality of the … Continue reading A Coarse Spirituality<\/span> <\/a>carrot; it becomes me. \u00a0It becomes me to eat this carrot. \u00a0The soil and the plants here give of themselves that I may not perish.<\/p>\n