(Ranier Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet)
I was disappointed, because the new Farmer's Market wasn't what I expected...too expensive, too homogenized. I suspect that things marked locally grown were not. The last Farmer's makert I shopped in was in New York City, near the Flat Iron Building. Lush purple grapes, eggs from heirloom variety chickens in Martha Stewart colors, clover and lavender honey from New Jersey, aritsan bread and cheses from Upstate, and piles of fall squashs tumbling on top of each other on beds of straw. Okay, I'm Farmer's Market Snob, I admit it.
Godliness with contentment is great gain. I looked for some contentment, for beauty, for something to photograph and found a magical nature trail along the path of the the Suffolk Coastline Railroad. I would have missed this if I hadn't held my plans loosely.
These lillies of the field grew on a slight hill along a street in Suffolk. My day would have been diminished without them. They were part of the richness that I enjoyed that day.
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