“I am more modest now, but I still think that one of the pleasantest of all emotions is to know that I, I with my brain and my hands, have nourished my beloved few,
that I have concocted a stew or a story, a rarity or a plain dish, to sustain them truly against the hungers of the world.”
― M.F.K. Fisher
Even though I don’t relish cooking like I use to, I still think beans are one of the most beautiful foods one can serve.
“If you have two loaves of bread, keep one to nourish the body, but sell the other to buy hyacinths for the soul.”
- Herodotus.
A memory . . .
The small hillside leading to the lower yard in our old house was covered with grape hyacinths each spring. One day come spring, I would hear my three boys run up the stairs to the deck and burst into the kitchen, hands behind their backs. I would then know they had noticed the hyacinths were in bloom. They would each hold out a hand and present me with a beautiful bouquet. The stems would be varied in size and sometimes hard to emerge in water, and the bouquet often included a few yellow dandelions added for color.
This was back in the day when my friend and I threw house parties of all kinds, someone would come and set up displays of candles, or maybe bakeware, and one of my friends had a crystal party. The only crystal I owned was a candy dish an aunt had sent me when I got married and I had never used it. But I bought three, tiny, beautiful crystal vases at that party in anticipation of the beautiful bouquets my sons would bring to me throughout their childhoods. I still have two of those vases and they have served me well over the years.
Today I have no idea where that candy dish is.
“That’s the trouble with March—the warmth never lasts. There’s that narrow stretch when it parades as spring, just enough for you to thaw if you’re sitting in the sun, but then it’s gone.”
― V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue
Determined to not let March bowl me over with the rain and gray skies, I get myself outside whenever I can. We get the vegetable garden ready; I redo the beds, turning in new compost, while he puts in a drip irrigation system for me! I plant snap peas, leeks and lettuce, and now wait patiently to get more in the ground. I go out most days with my camera, taking short walks and even get in the car with the soul purpose of finding wonder. We try a couple of new restaurants in town, and I marvel at the creativity and drive of young people who are brave enough to take chances. I spend time lost in a few good books, and watch The Elephant Whispers, crying at the beauty of the world. Percy comes on Thursdays, filling our home with constant motion as he gives up his afternoon nap. We take walks with his binoculars, marking a 16 deer-day one week, and he helps us ready the garden with his new rake and shovel. I give lots of thought to how I mark the rhythm of my days; leaning more and more about what brings balance, purpose, and integrity to my days. Finding the more I align myself to how I really want to live, the more fulfilling I find my days.
“Due to their short bloom time, Sakura blossoms are a metaphor for life itself: beautiful yet fleeting. You’ll realize when you’re as old as me to hang on to the good times because they won’t last forever.”
– Shannon M. Mullen
The day is fickle. Rain falls at daybreak, and clouds carry on until mid afternoon. It is so cold I wear my heavy coat to the library. Late afternoon arrives with full on sunshine, not just pockets of it, but warm rays and blue sky. I pick a few cherry tree branches and stick them in a vase with some water. They won’t last long, so I will be sure pay them their due respect.
“The trees are budding their new leaves and a thought comes into my head. They have a kind of rhythm in their upright trunks and their branches that start thick and then divide and get narrower and lighter and faster till they quiver in the air like breath past a clarionet reed. That is a rhythm you can see, not hear. Perhaps music happens elsewhere than in ears.”
— Anna Smaill
The older I get the more comfort I find in the rhythm of the seasons. And while the seasons have changed, summers bringing more heat, winter more snow, they are dependable. The rhythm of my daily life has changed often over the course of my 68 years. Each life season bringing new discoveries, new responsibilities, and things to focus on, along with heartache and joy. The vastness of living each day, the privilege of it really, is such a gift. One that can so easily be overlooked in the chaos of life. I walk into spring this year with less baggage to unpack. Arriving with some open spaciousness to explore and fill with what I want. It is a rhythm that I am still learning to listen to.