Pursuit of Sustenance

"To suggest that you can't be joyful in a time like this is akin to the idea that you can't be hopeful unless everything has gone right for you."

 Ross Gay
 
 

The light has shifted here at Pudding Creek, and everyone has started eating the apples (except for Tiger the cat, as he prefers rodents). The trees drop the apples - maybe to save their limbs from breaking under the heavy weight of ripeness. The bucks spend their days grazing on the fallen apples and trying to sneak into the greenhouse to eat the chard, lettuce, and kale. If Bucky has an apple in his mouth when I approach, he will lower his head and widen his stance. He stares at me with his jaw crunching the apple as if to say, "Don't come near me; I am busy eating this delicious fruit."

Everything and everyone is sizing up as the earth rotates towards fall. 

The walnuts and the grapes will be ready soon too, and the papery green hops flowers are practically singing in the late summer heat. The bear that is visiting this year is still small enough to get up into the trees to pick the biggest and best apples. She is sizing up too - preparing for winter.
 

Everyone I know lives with some portion of sorrow, and the world is on fire with hatred and bigotry. Even so, the sun rises into morning every day, and the creek flows to the ocean, where the seals and pelicans play.

The buck and the bear both refuse to be moved from their pursuit of sustenance, and I learn from them. I remember to turn towards what brings joy and health.

Like the buck holding his ground while eating an apple, I refuse to let go of joy and hope. The "no" of resistance and protest is sustained and nourished by our own gladness and freedom. 

"We must risk delight. We must admit the possibility of joy." 

Audre Lorde