My zenful vespers of the day

It is only a strainer filled with green leaf lettuce that has just been washed, dirt and grime scrubbed gently away from each smooth leaf. Green, slightly crisp, yet delicate. Added olive oil, vinegar, some spices, and carrot shavings. Nothing else. By December, meals like this will only be a memory, a desire, a dream. In my prior lives I thought nothing of a strainer filled with green leaf lettuce. But now as I savor each small leaf that passes my lips, I think of nothing more.