Occasional jaunts into the countryside, so healthy for mind and body.
Even when faced with that most monotonous, never-ending and sometimes downright boring of farm tasks: weeding. Yet, in the monotony, chafing and irritating of my hands I realize something: There is beauty in my work. My intentions, only to spare the handful of plants actually cared about. To give them more a chance to become fuller, healthier plants. Not for aesthetics, just a genuine chance at life without having to compete as much for resources.
Plants are genuinely alive and feeling beings, something a lot of people do not realize or want to realize. They to are worthy of compassion, I feel no need to pull all weeds, just those closest to say the squash, kale and strawberries I want to flourish. The more I can leave alone the better it feels, not to mention saving labor. Yay.
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