A long time ago, back before I saw the light, sometimes on the way to work in the morning I’d pull into a fast-food drive through for a greasy breakfast sandwich. The thought of that is repulsive to me now. But in those days, it was part of my life.
These days, after I let the chickens out in the morning, I usually stop for a snack at a blackberry bush. A handful of wild blackberries beats an egg mcmuffin any day.
I am reminded of Wendell Berry’s beautiful little poem:
Better than any argument
is to rise at dawn
and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.
I always drop a few of the berries on the ground, for the hen to share with her chicks.
A much better way to start the workday than at a fast food drive-thru.