Staying Grounded

As excited as I am about the capabilities and possibilities in Virtual Worlds, sometimes Real Life; with the sun on my face, wind in my hair and my hands in the dirt, is just too good to ignore.

Savoring the last of the September Sunset while sipping some Ravenswood Cabernet Sauvignon, I reminisce over the beauty of the season’s abundance as I fill basket after basket with butternut, zucchini, yellow crookneck and spaghetti squash. Picking the little Juliette tomatoes becomes a meditation as I search amidst the 6 foot high lush greenery of my “tomato hedge”. This was my first year growing Juliette tomatoes. They appear to be half-way between a Roma and a Cherry tomato, maturing early, producing consistently throughout the season and appearing almost ornamental, with little bunches looking like oversized red grapes.

My mind meanders ahead to menu planning for the upcoming week. I will make a zucchini quiche and some vegetable soup and tomato salsa with generous amounts of freshly snipped cilantro. I want to add apples and blueberries and pecans to a baked butternut squash and the thought of spaghetti squash topped with tomatoes and fresh basil makes my mouth water. I do love to cook!

I line up the baskets of bounty in the center of the courtyard next to the fountain and think about what a pretty picture the arrangement would make, with the bright reds and yellows of the vegetables flanked by deep greens and oranges from a backdrop of perky marigolds. I take a mental picture and tuck it carefully away, along with other private treasures.

Orange light explodes across the horizon as the sun sinks from view. My time is limited. Already the light is growing dim. I retrieve a blue plastic bowl from the kitchen, along with a pair of scissors and move on, to the row of bushy basil.

It may be the last basil harvest of the season so I approach the process as one would a spiritual ritual. My eyes grow accustomed to the impinging darkness. I let the pungent freshness of the basil scent engulf me as I carefully select each leaf, holding the basket of fresh cut leaves to my face and inhaling long and luxuriously. Later I will add garlic and pine nuts and olive oil and parmesan cheese to create the pesto to dollop atop the golden spaghetti squash. I’ll bet it won’t be long before we figure out how to add the sensations of smell and taste to our virtual worlds.

In the meantime, instead of tapping a keyboard, my fingers search beneath the soil for a good hold on the root of a weed that I want to yank out. I know that the weather of the Pacific Northwest will offer me ample opportunity to escape into Virtual Worlds in the next six months. Tonight in my garden, feeling connected with Mother Earth, I immerse myself in the beauty, perfection and abundance of my Real Life.

And tomorrow, once again, there will be time to fly ... in my Second Life.