Tamara

My raspberry patch. Recently I have begun each day in my garden – mostly picking raspberries. It is quite a meditation, berry picking. I love the early morning coolness and quiet. It feels calming and sacred to me. July is a hard month – the anniversary of my youngest daughter’s death looms next week and I feel it in my gut after 16 years. I need the sacred space of the raspberry patch, where I pick the berries that are ripe and leave others to ripen for another day, while ...

My raspberry patch. Recently I have begun each day in my garden – mostly picking raspberries. It is quite a meditation, berry picking. I love the early morning coolness and quiet. It feels calming and sacred to me. July is a hard month – the anniversary of my youngest daughter’s death looms next week and I feel it in my gut after 16 years. I need the sacred space of the raspberry patch, where I pick the berries that are ripe and leave others to ripen for another day, while watching the new canes that will bear in September – weather allowing. There is an analogy here, for my life.

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7 years ago