An eye injury has waylaid my writing and reading for that matter. A corneal abrasion that ,once the intense pain had left, has altered the vision in my left eye. As I try to write, it tires easily but I believe it may actually be healing!
I wept as I picked the beans this morning. A beautiful day, cool with a light breeze and varying clouds. I sit upon a small coleman cooler with a flat top so that I do not have to do a great deal of bending. Its is the perfect size for fitting in between the rows of beans. A portable radio tuned to NPR and a large metal bowl are my equipment. This morning's selection happened to be Bach and as I listensed and picked, I was overcome with the beauty of them both. Bach and the beans. The pure simplicity of putting a small, grey seed into the ground and then watching it grow and the pure ecstacy of Bach's piece that itself sprang forth from a small, black note. I held the beans in my palms, closed my eyes and let the music envelope me and as I wept, I said a feeble word of thanks for the beautiful, crisp green Bachd beans.
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