How often can I sing the praise of these three things: coffee, clouds, and birds? Add to this list: pure dark chocolate and my beloved cat. Occasionally, flowers, perfumes, and even weeds fall under the blanket of my adoration. Morning sun on red rooftops. Oak trees and other trees, but Oaks most of all. Scratch that. Orange trees, equal to Oaks, evoke my reverence. It’s like comparing Oaks to Oranges.
These things deserve my daily devotion, these beautiful, exalted, holy things. I forgot to mention the worms. Worms whose grandmothers were hatched in the worm bin of a dear friend. Fat, pink, and purplish brown, they go around in the soil helping to grow the things I praise most often. Dear quiet, unobtrusive worms. How could I leave you out? And the beautiful soil that you inhabit and create with the work of your lives is also worthy of veneration.
There would be no birds without the worms. Without the clouds bringing occasional rain, there would be no Oak trees or Oranges. Without coffee, I would be asleep and praising nothing. It’s a circle of appreciation, an interconnected web of reasons to wake up and get to work. If I could do as much good in this world as a worm does, my life would be truly meaningful. I aspire to such greatness, such lovliness and accomplishment. The best I can do is honor the beauty, grace, and strength of the worm, and the oranges and oaks she attends.