Finding Food
When I was at Seminole Canyon State Park recently, I saw an exhibit that featured the local people hunting. They were chasing a rabbit, barefoot, across the arid land that surrounds the park. Given the number of prickly plants in the park, I wouldn’t run through it with boots on and wearing long pants. But there they were, chasing dinner, barefoot.
I thought of those ancient peoples again yesterday while I was shopping at my local food market. There was an entire wall dedicated to any meat I’d care to eat, butchered and packed to my taste. Some was smoked. Some was chopped into tiny bits. Some was sliced. Some was made into sausage. What a luxury. What a world. What a time to be alive. When it comes to dinner these days, I have so many choices that sometimes I’m paralyzed. What to eat?
And while I like to think things have sure changed for the better, since the days of running across the Savannah chasing dinner, I’m pretty sure there are still large portions of the world where people have no idea what’s for dinner. Or breakfast. Or lunch. How’s that my problem, you might ask. It’s not. Directly. But I’m sort of a globalist and I tend to think of everyone in the world as being my neighbor. So, sharing some of my abundance seems helpful and appropriate. Neighborly even. Not a fashionable idea these days, but as ideas go it’s a good one, and I hope it returns one day. If for no other reason than feeding a starving child just seems like the right thing to do.