Seeds

Be wary of any enterprise that requires new clothes. - Henry David Thoreau

11.30.2004

November

November was beautiful. I picked carrots on clear days that were just cold enough that my hands got numb when I was almost finished washing a sinkful. In August you want cloudy days so the heat is bearable, but in November you want the sun in your face or warming the back of your neck. I roasted root vegetables to my heart's content and still couldn't get enough of the sweet potatoes. I listened to the rain and drank hot cocoa. I rolled up pole bean, cherry tomato, and swiss chard fences for the winter and packed up boxes from the stand. I drove farm vehicles and did not get stuck. I watched the horizon, bare trees against a winter sky at dusk.

Mostly I was in the city, frequenting Ercilia's for fried plantain, Kramerbooks for Lonely Planet New Zealand, and Malcolm X Park. The park looks lovely all the time but especially lovely on a misty day in November when the cascading fountain is still falling and some of the leaves are still on the trees.

Mostly I was saying goodbye, to my former co-workers who so graciously welcome me back, and to the children whose faces are so bright when they are creating; to my church community, who keep me anchored in mystery and beauty; to my dear, dear friends.

I will be at my parent's house for the next month or so, reading up on Kiwi history and purchasing new sneakers and one of those really cool travel towels that dry instantaneously.


Peace and wool sweaters -

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