Those that till the soil and plant the seed, till the souls too of all who share in the bounty of the garden.
Oh my, I sure have had a full dose of humanity this week...and tomorrow, it only gets better.
Our first farmers market begins Thursday in Princeton Maine. Trouble is...not many crops to speak of. Sure, they're all mostly in the ground, but the ground is boggy, cold and the sun hasn't shined much since...geez, I can't even remember!
I do have a fine crop of fresh photo greeting cards though. Nothing like waiting until the last minute to get all those finished, but- I was feeling vulnerable. My heart and soul in those pics, deep and quirky as it may be- will others follow along, see the logic in a tiny frog sitting on a leek? Or the small spider on a fallen leaf floating down a spring fed brook, brown on brown and yet the light just hitting all the high marks- an arachnid sailor with eight legs and countless eyes; a tiny spectacular bug in all it's brilliance- will that compute?
Whether or not the thought that I put into it leaps off the surface I suppose isn't really important, but the story of why or how or when- that would be plenty to take in and then tell- although I do hope folks will be willing to share some of their Hallmark dollars with me too.
Ahhh, the wondering of it all consumes me- happily I might add. Well, maybe there is one exception- I have to deal with an insidious sort...all the patience I must bear. All the tolerance I can stand... To a point and then, well- that's another vulnerability popping up. A few people around here are under the impression that I don't get angry, or impatient or wobbling mad. I'm a champion wobbler, let me tell you! I get just as balled up as anyone I suppose, though I seldom strike out as it seems to serve no purpose other than my own...and what's the sense in that? Usually I gather up my camera- mad, glad happy or sad- off I go and find expression in all sorts of landscape and fauna. I get those pictures downloaded and see just why I took a certain shot. Only then do I fully understand my motivation- in the light and the dark, the shadows and the shine; always I see that life is composed of opposites. Pictures tell the story that I could not- in all my humanness, comprehend until the shot was fully exposed.
So there you have it, a telling of the days and weeks leading up to a tomorrow that so many are looking forward to. What started with a tiny dream comes to full fruit tomorrow as we give this community something that gathers all the opposites together in what seems to me, a sacred place of opportunity. Story telling, art, hand crafted Maine-made creations, food- (this our commonest bond) will somehow I hope, blend us all together for a time. When that first car comes rolling in the parking lot- oh the high hopes we'll all have!
I will have the camera, I will take the pictures, I will historically depict this great day for our little community. I know it's not Washington crossing the Potomac- but it is a moment in my life I don't want to forget because of it's tiny triumphant message.
"He who digs a well, constructs a stone fountain, plants a grove of trees by the roadside, plants an orchard, builds a durable house, reclaims a swamp, or so much as puts a stone seat by the wayside, makes the land so far lovely and desirable, makes a fortune which he cannot carry away with him, but which is useful to his country long afterwards."
Ralph Waldo Emerson