- the Airdale Terrier waiting with infinite patience along the country road
- the blueberry biscuits at Cafe Borrone
- the red leaves reflected in the smoke tinted window of the artichoke-gray/pewter-green van
- the smell of crushed juniper berries and orange zest now imbuing the slow-cooking lamb shanks
- the Sacred Deeds scarf in shades of berry, wine
And what I didn't like
at all—
That Rose Market is
moving. The place that always cheered me
on cold rainy days, with lamb kebabs sizzling and smoking on the outdoor grill,
while venturing inside, wild sage leaves for tea, and exotic spices (though not
Ras El Hanout, not when I searched four or five towns for it several years
ago); rosewater, an array of nutted candies, and those ruby-seeded
pomegranates.
image: Juniper Berries
No comments:
Post a Comment