Last night, I was making dinner. I cut off the bottom of a celery stalk and looked at it. It was kind of beautiful. It looked like this:
I thought "I am the first person to see this. I am now going to throw this in my compost pile, where it will wither and decompose into dirt, never to be seen or even thought of again. That means I am going to be the
only person ever to see this."
A ping of regret hit me. Poor celery heart, destined to die and be devoured in such obscurity. It was planted, raised, and killed just to be chopped up and cooked. I ran and showed it to Rachel so she could see it too.
Then, I took a picture and put it here, for you to see.
There, I don't feel bad any more.
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