I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant’s way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in.
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Although I relate to Wendell Berry’s injunction [“The Pleasures of Eating,” January 2002] to eat responsibly, deal with local farmers, and support the natural health and fertility of the soil, I was disturbed to read that he is not a vegetarian. He says he dislikes “the thought that some animal has been made miserable in order to feed [him].” Does he truly think that if a dismembered chicken or cut-up cow were wined, dined, and given the best table overlooking the sea before being murdered, then the murder would be justified? Would it allow for the enjoyment of such a meal?