Barefoot, in this
lovely, shady yard. Eating plums
and reading Colette.
image: Therese Nicolas
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- Christie
- Creative writer - Traveler - Archaeologist manque - Ardent lover of the play of light, the journeyings of time, things ephemeral and ancient
Popular Posts
-
On my way back from campus, a fine flurry of yellow leaves. Dissettling December . . . image: Christie B. Cochrell, Leaves in Fountain -
.jpg)
I am drinking lavender white tea, listening to what sounds like a young parrot learning to form words out in the orange t... -
I thought I might like to be a sojourner —a word I’ve come across this morning that is not in my regular vocabulary. I do journ... -
So tomorrow we are off to London (quiet family visiting, with a Mozart opera at Glyndebourne on Sunday), and then to Lucca. As I keep... -
“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could s... -
Away for the weekend, and gratefully back home here to the coast, where I'm nesting again. Making a chicken and farro salad with... -
I drink the excellent Peruvian coffee made from hand-roasted beans and carried back for me, see beside the bed a litt... -
Darkness falls—and then there are candles in red glass cups, fires of piñon wood, carols. Cakes fall—and I remember in the lov... -
The past makes me much happier than the future, because it’s not nearly as scary. What happened there, horrific as it m...
How lovely is that?
ReplyDeleteThat's a place I would rather be too, eating plums, and cherries, and apricots, and almonds, with a cup of smoking green tea, or cold lemon tea. If I think that, back in Europe, I used to visit a dear friend of mine, and we'd spend hours (in the summer) sitting in his garden, which is pretty much as cozy as this one, if not more, and talk for hours.
Ah, how sweet and lulling remembrance can be...
Jay—
ReplyDeleteGardens remembered are indeed the sweetest. I often linger in mind and spirit in the shade of the cottonwood tree in the backyard of my childhood home, safe in the love of my parents and the perfect coolness of the dappled leaf-shadow, where time ran ahead of me as generous as a deep green river, never to be doubted...
Thanks for stopping to talk for awhile. Enjoy the weekend.