It’s that time of the year where the community garden at Blendon Township begins to take shape as the gardeners till, row, prepare, and plant their small plots for what they hope will be a great harvest of fresh vegetables.
There was a time where the fields adjacent to the cemetery were off limits out of respect for the dead. My son and I were once angrily tossed out when we started fielding practice almost in the same spot that is now home to a community feeding their needs with produce and a sense of community involvement.
When we were told to leave I thought to myself that a father and son playing baseball in an open field next to the cemetery would be looked upon by the neighbors as a joyous expression of the celebration of life, not disrespect for the dead.
I’ve always been a fan of Thorton Wilder’s “Our Town” and its exposition of our lives. I love the third act and its intention to demonstrate how most people don’t understand the value of the simple commonplace events that create the tapestry of their lives.
I thought about the third act as we left the field trying to remember the exact line when the stage manager responds after he is asked if anyone realizes how important life is.
“No. The saints and poets, maybe – they do some.”
There must be saints and poets working today at Blendon Township.
Note: “Our Town,” the movie, is on Netflix.