Today, I took a moment to consider how happy rising dough makes me. I continue to make my sourdough bread from a yeast starter my friend gave me, and when I turn the ball of dough into the bowl to rise all day long, I love the secret, unaccompanied work of it. I love that the rising happens without me or anyone else.
It’s doing it’s work.
I feel this way about crockpot cooking. I feel this way about anything you put in place and leave to itself.
I feel this way about so many secret processes: growing seeds, tomatoes ripening on the vine, autumn leaves changing color, lakes beginning to freeze.
There’s so much happening, so many unseen, marvelous processes!
Today, it’s rising dough.