A generation goes and a generation comes, yet the earth remains forever.
Spring break and a retirement were put to good use this past april as niece allison and uncle pete gave gerald a running start on planting the vidal. all in all, they planted close to a third of the acre and in doing so, thought they had sacrificed uncle pete's beloved gardening claw (left). luckily, the claw was recovered from the field the following weekend. the juxtaposition of the rending of trees and the nurturing of vines put me in the mood for a bit of putting things into perspective, and so i turned to ecclesiastes. i confess, i've read more bible passages since slate.com has featured blogging the bible and i'm a little reticent to share my perception with you, as formed from ignorance as it is.
from what i understand, many think ecclesiastes more of a pessimistic, troublesome entry, but i find a sort of joy in considering the inability to transcend our limitations over time—when at the same moment, witnessing a momentary communion of generations over dirt and plant matter.
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.