Sunday, July 15, 2012
Between the Strawberry Patch and the Field
While out on a walk with Buddy a few evenings ago, we came across a patch of wild strawberries growing right next to the road. When I saw those little red berries, I thought of the summer afternoons when Mother would send my sister, Jane, and me, off to the backfield to pick strawberries. We would walk down the cow path through the woods to where the patch was growing beneath the trees, next to the pasture. Not many came back with us. I'm sure Mother had no expectations that they would. We were simply being given something to do when the days were long and our attention spans short. We would eat until we were full or the berries were gone and then go exploring. It was a good way to spend a summer day. And so, remembering that, Buddy and I sat down together in the grass between the strawberry patch and the field, ate wild strawberries, and listened to the river below us.
A person's life purpose is nothing more than to rediscover, through the detours of art, or love, or passionate work, those one or two images in the presence of which his heart first opened. ~ Albert Camus
Painting by Pierre Auguste Renoir