The raspberries are coming in very nicely, indeed. I seem to get 10 to 12 ounces every few days. I am ignoring the fact that some of the plants are growing in places they shouldn't because I like getting the raspberries so much.
Of course, as I pick raspberries, a few ripe ones fall off into the pachysandra below. I hate this. I hate losing any of the produce I've put so much time and effort into growing. Until this year I was jealous of every tomato (I got enough this year so I don't have to feel that way anymore). Each zucchini and cucumber is like a prized possession. And having something happen to anything I grew just when it is ready to harvest seems almost cruel to me.
It turns out that we just read about this in shul. Last week's Torah reading includes one of the admonitions that we should leave something in the field for others (Deuteronomy 24:19-21). I always found this an interesting idea, since it goes so much against the grain of modern business. The lesson (to business executives, not gardeners) seems very clear---don't try to extract every bit of profit or efficiency out of an enterprise.
Maybe it even makes sense from a gardening point of view. It is at least a reminder that, for all the hard work I put into the garden (or not, as is the case with raspberries), it took more than me to reach the stage where I can pick beautiful black zucchini or ripe tomatoes. Not begrudging the berries that fall before I can pick them is, perhaps, a way to acknowledge that I am a partner with God in this hobby.
Let me just note for the record that I am not a partner with rabbits, and I see nothing in halacha that requires me to share with them.
(More on the laws of Peah here.)
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