The strawberries were very nearly mashed into juice by the hot walk from the Penn Quarter Fresh Farm Market Home, but no matter. I had intended to make them into popsicles. I couldn’t resist the bouquet from one of the farmers.
Do you ever pause and think about how amazing it is to be able to get jet lag. It is, after all, the result of moving so quickly through space that one becomes disoriented in time.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Sage smudge.
How exciting to see not only what is ready to eat now — the greens and herbs and strawberries — but the promise of what will come throughout the summer, so long as my dedicated attentions continue; the weather is cooperative; and the bugs, birds, and squirrels and I can negotiate my getting a decent share of what ripens. The fairy rose in the last photo was a gift from a student who was an enthusiastic participant in my gentle/therapeutic class who left his body last year. Sweet to see the rose still thriving.
I was at a meeting at another agency that was built in the years when civil service was a respected nd honored activity. The garden is clearly maintained, but I have never seen anyone in it, and wonder whether entrance by anyone other than maintenance is permitted. Does the solitary air of the garden make it feel more personal and sweet? Or does it seem isolated and less intriguing because of the absence of people?
I wonder whether people who are naturally drawn to meditate would be the ones who would answer yes to the first question and no to the second.
