They speak to me of the glory of God

You would expect the antecedent of that pronoun to be something, well, glorious.  Like my children's faces or spectacular sunsets or whatever.  Instead I'm talking about beets.  I love beets.

Once my friend Jeff was telling me about his share in a CSA.  He was excited about the variety of vegetables -- the fennel! the kohlrabi!  He was unenthusiastic about the beets, however. 

"Jeff, how can you hate beets?" I interjected earnestly.  [I think I am doomed to earnestness.  Periodically I try to suppress it so I can be reserved and cool, but it always sproings forth like an irksome cuckoo from a kitschy clock and causes me to say things like--] "They speak to me of the glory of God."

Jeff has ribbed me ever since about my reaction (and rightly so, some would say), but it's true.  Tonight I sliced open beets for a salad and had a quick surge of that "God's-in-his-heaven-all's-right-with-the-world" feeling. 

I love that magnificent color.  Imagine biting into a beet for the first time, discovering that this unassuming-looking thing was possessed of a fabulous magenta interior.  Beets remind me that in this world there is extravagant beauty in unexpected places.  You just have to keep digging and tasting.

I also love the sweet and earthy taste.  Tonight's beets were shredded raw in the food processor and tossed with walnut oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and fresh parsley.  They were a hit.  How could they not be?  (I think I'll have to go polish off the leftovers when I finish this entry.)

My favorite thing about beets is the rings within them, the way that when you slice them you see the bands of deepest fuchsia divided by stripes of paler pink.  It reminds me of that Hopkins poem "Pied Beauty."  You know it; it was in your high school English text.

Glory be to God for dappled things--
for skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim
Fresh firecoal chestnut falls; finches' wings...

I'm sure if they ever unearth a first draft there'll be a line about beets.

Comments

[Lilian]

there were no comments to this 2004 beauty of a post? (or maybe you used a different provider & the comments were lost?). When did you start blogging (the old blog), by the way? Sorry for the unbridled curiosity... but maybe it can be blog fodder for the month of November! :)

After this lengthy intro, here's my actual comment to the post.

I don't really feel the same way about beets, but I surely do love you (or, at least your writing, or the you that I can know through the writing ;).

I mean... I didn't even have the words to describe what I am most of the time (not that I didn't know the word or didn't use it, I just never thought of using it to describe myself): earnest.

This? I think I am doomed to earnestness. Periodically I try to suppress it so I can be reserved and cool, but it always sproings forth like an irksome cuckoo from a kitschy clock and causes me to say things like--] "They speak to me of the glory of God."

This is glorious! sproings forth? Is it because we have curly hair that it does? Yeah, I've reconciled myself by now to the idea that I'll never be reserved and cool and witty... I'll just be this earnest girl. And of course you already know I am this way from my lengthy, earnest blog comments! ;) (seriously, now that I'm aware of it I feel even embarrassed. I'm painfully earnest in blog comments. it's ridiculous).

Anyway... I read the paragraph above and I almost cried. And then the rest of the post is just so poetic and beautiful! (sigh). I think I'll skip forward and backward a little bit to enjoy some of these old gems!! :)