Last night I futzed in the garden: a little tomato trimming, a little beet thinning, but little picking of the raspberries. I had intended to begin (again) listening to War and Peace, but both my iPod and MP3 needed charging.
So, gosh, I thought, I guess I’ll just think. I don’t know why, but when I think in the garden I get all philosophical. Not like Kierkegaard or Kant: just your run-of-the-mill moralistic, didactic, flannel-graph philosophy.
Here’s what I came up with, just to prove that about *anyone* can write those little Everything I Need to Know sorts of books.
What Raspberries Teach Me About Life
1. The best position is to bend down low and look up.
2. Stretching beyond your reach is worth it.
3. Don’t be afraid of of a few scratches.
4. Work is its own reward, but a fresh raspberry popped in the mouth is a nice perk.
5. The dried up, near-black raspberries represent lost opportunities. Don’t despair. Keep moving. Every life has *bushels* of lost opportunities. Pluck them off and feed them to the dog.
6. One can’t overstate the benefit of looking at a situation from many different angles.
7. Even when you are certain you’ve picked every ripe raspberry –even then– there’s still more goodness waiting to be found.
8. Corollary: another person will be able to see what you can’t.
9. Cultivating raspberries, which are essentially a weed, requires no great skill. God made the plants, sent the sun, gave the rain. The fruit is a gift.
10. Early risers have all the moral high ground, but some things are better after the sun goes down.