The Natural In Nature

NATURE SUBMISSION:

“It’s all natural,” Kathy tells Gordon, her teenaged son. “We don’t use pesticides.”

She tears lettuce into bite-size pieces. Radishes lie on the chopping board next in line for the salad.

“But chemicals can fall from rain,” replies Gordon. He fills a glass with filtered water.

Bruno, seen through a window, is crouching between rows of spinach and lettuce in the garden.

Gordon cringes. “So much for natural. Think of all the junk that dog picks up along the way in his daily romps.”

“That’s nature,” says Kathy. “Can’t help what one is meant to do.”

“Certified organic?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband, stuffed animals and many friends.

Chopping Along

Knife steadied, I proceeded to chop sweet pepper. Choppy chords of a Chopin prelude dominated the airwaves as the sound of an overhead chopper faded. “Anything else to add to our Chopin list? Sorry, couldn’t help it,” husband laughed. Lucky he’s not on my chopping block, I thought. “Don’t forget. Mother’s here for dinner tonight,” I said. Onions appeared next on my chopping board. “What are you making, Mom?” I turned around to answer: “Vegetarian Chop Suey.” “No lamb chops? That’s okay,” my boy surmised. “Don’t think grandma’s choppers can take anything tough. Does she know how to use chopsticks?

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna is a writer of poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. She resides in Edmonton, Canada with her husband and stuffed animals and many friends.