A day like this one happens maybe what, three times a year? Stunning, no matter how you look at it. I could tell the minute I stepped outside.
The blossoms are at their mightiest, with still a touch of pink around the edges. The abundance in the gardens is palpable, even without the full swing of the lilies. And the weather? Perfection.
Ed is up and out early. By 7, he is on his way to the next stage meeting of manufacturers, engineers, mechanics, CEOs, so that the details of his machine design can be further studied and incorporated into the production cycle. I have to say, I'm pretty proud of him. He has spent many hours every day for several years now trying to create something that many thought would not be possible. And now it looks like it'll work and, too, create a platform for further innovation. Impressive!
I'm up early too. I do what I rarely do for reasons that are not all that clear to me -- I have a long, leisurely, protracted, lovely breakfast that I fix for my two local friends.
Foods consumed? Well, you know me on the subject of brunches: simple stuff. I do bake blueberry muffins (I have just enough time for a batch), but otherwise, cheeper eggs are the centerpiece. With picked chives and salmon. And fruits. I could have steamed some asparagus, but I stopped with the basics, just because I did not want to rush. (Noticeable, I hope, is the tablecloth which I picked up on April 5th, along the Rue du Cherche-Midi.)
I suppose I could have taken us out onto the porch -- it is that warm. But the cool early morning fooled me. No matter -- it was grand to spend the morning with those two! We covered a lot of ground!
When I finished putting the last dish into the washer, it was time to pick up the kids.
You could not paint a better day for ice cream!
At the farmette, I see that the crab apple has opened to its fullest. The pink edges are nearly gone. We have before us a splendid cloud of white, impossible to take in just from one angle.
A tree of hope. Every year, I wait for this moment in its cycle and when it comes, I am humbled.
But of course, no plant stands alone. It fits into a sea of compadres, And this is what really strikes you about the farmette lands right now: everything is so fresh, abundant, and swimming in a sea of green!
Still, the crab apple blossoms are with us so briefly, that I go back to them after each venture outside.
The day ends quietly. I was going to cook up a soup. I didn't do it, opting instead for leftovers. Somehow the heady fragrance of apple blossoms and the emerging lilac took away any desire to stand over a cutting board and chop onions.
I'll end with flowers. Tulips. Those that look like someone took out a paintbrush and added color to the already beautiful flower cups.
I hope you had a bit of nature with you, or at least nearby today. I hope it made you feel content. Maybe even euphoric? Take a whiff of all those floral scents. And give yourself a pat, or even a hug for having made it to May.
with love...
