Perhaps the earliest sign that summer is on its way is the sight of asparagus at the local farmer’s market. This strange looking vegetable, revered by many around the world, will make its way onto our tables over the next few weeks. It will be sweet, tasty, green, white or purple….and it will only be with us in its freshly harvested state for a few short weeks. While it can be found in frozen form or carried to us with a huge carbon footprint on its stalks, asparagus is not only nutritious but teaches us an important practice….the art of savoring what is short-lived.

We are generally not a culture of ‘savor-ers’. We gulp down food while riding in our cars at sixty miles per hour. We eat food that is hardly recognizable as such from boxes we’ve zapped for three minutes in a microwave. Unlike our brothers and sisters in other countries who can turn any meal into a several hour occasion, somehow we’ve pushed food into the ‘calories in/calories out’ realm and have allowed the art of savoring to fall by the wayside.

One of the by-products of the intention toward eating locally produced foods in their season is that it may bring back this lost art. Alphabetically speaking, let us begin with the letter "a" for asparagus.This crazy looking stalk that seems to be wearing a fabulous headdress of green feathers is meant to be savored….for it will not be long with us.

In her book Animal,Vegetable,Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver speaks of asparagus: "From the outlaw harvests of my childhood, I’ve measured my years by asparagus. I sweated to dig it into countless yards I was destined to leave behind, for no better reason than that I believe in vegetables in general, and this one in particular. Gardeners are widely known and mocked for this sort of fanaticism. But other people fast or walk long pilgrimages to honor the spirit of what they believe makes our world whole and lovely. If we gardeners can, in the same spirit, put our heels to the shovel, kneel before a trench holding tender roots, and then wait three years for an edible incarnation of the spring equinox, who’s to make the call between ridiculous and reverent?"

If you venture out to one of the many farmer’s markets opening this weekend and if you are blessed to find there a table holding asparagus, remember this: someone has knelt in the trench, has held these tender roots, has nurtured and fed them for three years and now offers them to you. It seems to me the only reasonable response is to savor….and give thanks.