Behind the Garden Walls
Jan. 22, 2008
Land of Milk and Honey
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There is a farm. A farm with a cow named Melody, a cow who supplies our whole family with milk, good rich milk encased in shiny glass with the cream slowly floating upwards. A farm with bees that fill a big jar full of honey for us to take home, amber honey behind the glass, glowing in the sun. Marble white and amber. ************************************* The glass doors in the kitchen look out on the back yard, all surrounded with pines laden with snow. Snow falls in light flakes, the sun catches the glint of them; the trees shake off snowflakes in shining clouds. Still they are dressed and laced in snow. The sun sets behind those trees, and sometimes I catch a glimpse of the show, in pale pastels or glowing pink. There is little traffic through these doors in the winter, and so I push my kitchen island up against them so I can watch it all while I cook. My spindles and fiber are there, so I can spin in those minutes when cooking means waiting; here I feel my inner letter-writer awakening. I put the stamps here, my address book, and some note cards. I can write while I am standing, looking out the window. The moment, caught on the paper. |
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Feb. 4, 2008 - You can't fool me
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Posted by Beth