It’s not just the taste, which is delicious, but it’s the hunt, the picking, presenting it to my husband, seeing it still a little wild on the table, then making it into an omelette, mixing the vibrant green with the yellow and adding a little hot sauce on top — this is the pure enjoyment of asparagus season. And it makes me feel special, to walk on the path with so many of the empty-handed, while mine are filled with green. 

It doesn’t last that long, but it doesn’t have to. Perfection knows no time constraints. As with all good things, it will come to an end with a bit of a surprise, but I have no thoughts of that now, as I’m putting on my shoes. And it occurs to me, I hope with everything, everyone, I can live like that, love like that. Cherish the season, for however long it lasts. Feel special for the time given. And just enjoy it for what it is. 

Soon my new shoes will be dampened with dew. And I will bend over with delight at each tiny stalk. And I will forget the promises I made on paper to life and love and just be in nature’s joy, with hands that are full. And in all that cherished season, I will forget to take the photos of asparagus on table, and I will simply enjoy, and that will be good too!