This morning was wet, very wet, and my soaking rain coat can attest to that. I am in a small city near Philadelphia, working the various gardens throughout the neighborhoods. At 7, I learned to tie tomatoes and spent the morning cutting fabric to fasten around the vine and spike. I love the rain - I always have. And so I was thankful to spend that time in the garden, alone with the tomatoes and the basil. The pungent scent of the two plants has given me perspective: I like urban gardening. I like the idea of green, living things amongst the bricks and cement of the city. I like that it provides children an opportunity to know where their food is coming from. Beyond that, I like that children can learn the process of growing food. Reflecting on this, I've realized that I eat too hastily. It has come to my attention that I must slow down- food must be eaten slowly. It must taste good and it must be enjoyed. Have you ever thought about the wheat in your whole-wheat breaded sandwich? Not only must the farmer plant he seed, but he also must weed the bed, transport the germinated seed, keep it safe from hungry bugs via companion plants or other things, and then harvest when it is ready. This is a process that occurs over a few months. Once the wheat is harvested, someone must then ground the wheat to a dust in order to provide the flour that goes into your delicious bread. So let's consume with the farmer's labor aching in our bones, and let us enjoy the fruits of the earth in all of their delicious diversity.