Montreal Melons for Peace

Mid-summer: Suddenly, after the frenetic activity of May and June (all things growing like mad, people rushing, projects started, projects finished), there is a slowness settling in: The grass hardly needs cutting, the horses move sedately in the heat, line-ups are shorter, the daily email flood subsides as people take holidays.

It is good that way, because one gets tired. Yes, the kitchen counter is filled with plastic tubs holding red currants and raspberries waiting to be converted into jam and cake and jelly .... But the fact that I linger to talk and reflect, that too is a luxury of mid-summer.

I am reading the new Mussar book by Alan Morinis, and have promised to begin working seriously on my character traits. There is that edge that sometimes creeps into my relations ... what is its source, why is not love the first response instead of something remembered too late, when I'm already angry or upset?

Only the wars and violence among people don't slow down. Some days I feel guilty at escaping from that world, some days I escape even from the news, just leaving the paper closed on the table. News on the farm is a horse hurting a leg, the dog not eating, the Montreal Melon blooming. I wish I could send seeds to all people, and a little bit of soil to plant them in, and a little bit of rain to make them grow, so they can be shared among neighbours. Everyone has a neighbour. Does one have enemy neighbours, or is someone considered a neighbour not really so very "other" any more?

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We're okay!!

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Teshuvah

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