Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries
Life is just a bowl of cherries. What exactly does that mean? I’ve heard that it means life is good, be happy, enjoy. Yesterday I decided to pick the cherries from my tree. In the early afternoon there were hundreds if not thousands of just-ripe cherries. I decided to wait until evening to pick the lot. But I was sidelined by the ducks in the pool. And the cows mooing on the hill. And the chickens clucking down the street. And the woman riding her horse in front of my house. And the woodpecker pecking away at my “barn” (which has been converted to a bonus room). The cows, horse and chickens are fine, but the ducks and woodpecker annoy me. By the time I got back to the cherries, they were half gone, and half of what remained were half eaten by the birds. I suppose that’s what happens when you live in suburbia, that grey zone between urban and rural life. If I can see cows grazing from my bedroom window, is it rural? If I’m less than a mile from the highway, five minutes from Walnut Creek and thirty minutes from San Francisco, is it urban? Does it even matter? With the remaining cherries picked, yet the pumpkin seeds still unsowed, I will choose to embrace life as it comes my way, part rural, part urban, always enjoyable. Yes, I think life really is just a bowl of cherries.