I'm in the mood today for old, beloved, solitary things, with the patina of age on them and the salt of ancient (even vanished) seas. Burnt lamb yesterday, with the char of a too-hot grill, fit my yearnings for a not belligerently all-American day, and the volcanic ash in the sun-softened Morbier, the coolness of pink roses against a weathered wood fence, good people with lives fully lived, a cat with eyes closed and spine prominent near to hand.
See here for more on wabi sabi.
image: Christie B. Cochrell, Lake Como Watering Can
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