Rhythms

     I was driving to my daughter's place yesterday on a highway that runs through the counties of Lancaster and Berks into Lehigh County. The day was sauna-like when I left my studio at the GoggleWorks. Bright sun alternated with clouds, so my sunglasses were on and off. I'm always captivated by the fields I pass, some newly planted in corn that seems to be growing as I watch, some in the distance looking like patchwork quilts. The area is replete with farm stands and small shops.
     Near Kirbyville I approached a farm stand that seemed to have an explosion of afterthoughts on its signs. The painted sign for strawberries had a cardboard addendum crayoned "raspberries." Signs for spinach and rhubarb had cardboard addenda for lettuce, sugar snap peas, and asparagus. There were others which I can't remember, but my mouth was watering. Then I reached the stand, where I saw one final addendum to the signage: Closed Sundays. (in red)
     The rhythm of farming is practiced here, not the rhythm of commerce. The growing season demands intense effort for some six months or so, dawn to dusk. This cannot be sustained without periods of rest, and most of these stands are closed on the Sabbath. Not at all like other commercial establishments, where everything is available all day, every day, 24/7. It is good to be reminded that to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven, and to know that those who provide our fresh fruits and vegetables have their priorities straight. We need rest to replenish our bodies and spirits. I was glad to be reminded of this.
     The drive home was fraught with tension, as torrential downpours lowered visibility and drivers slowed their speeds. I'm sure the farmers were glad for the rain.
     To everything there is a season.  Thanks be to God.