I’ve been grateful all week for ample and delicious food, from occasional homemade granola with peaches from the tree last summer via the freezer, to fresh garden salads supplemented with avocados and nuts that I didn’t grow, to of course cheese sandwiches. I’ve been eating more protein recently, and how lucky am I that I can say that? And have smoked salmon in the fridge to include in my lunches.
I made one sandwich with fromage fort, smoked salmon, lettuce, avocado, and peach salsa. It was delicious but it felt like it needed to be on a bagel, open-face, instead of between two slices.
Lacking a bagel, but with a thick slice toward the end of the loaf, I toasted that and added a fried egg, and enjoyed a gourmet lunch. I truly do savor these simple sandwiches with a few extra touches, with deep humility and gratitude that my life at this time allows me such marvelous food. I share the bounty of my garden and my lunch plates not to boast or show off, but to inspire and encourage anyone who has the means to make the time to make a simple meal special, and to savor it. I’m keenly aware that the day may come when I don’t get to enjoy this kind of lunch, for an infinite array of potential reasons: anything can happen, to anyone, at any time. Each meal is a special meal; each meal, like each breath, like each moment, is unique.
Meanwhile, in the garden, each day offers new delight. New blossoms continue to open on the little cherry tree even as the first cluster to open begins to set fruit.
With the coldest nights behind us, I hope, I am planting this week. These sci-fi ‘self-watering’ baskets came from Gardeners’ Supply complete with a water meter for each. They actually seem like the best hanging option for this dry climate, and I’m optimistic about the strawberries I planted in them.
The little North Sky blueberry has acclimated long enough, sprouted new leaves, and seemed ready to go in its big pot filled with special blueberry soil.
How is it possible that I forget over the winter how much joy and contentment the garden brings me? I stepped outside into a cool, damp morning after Telesangha, and didn’t come inside again until lunchtime. I was just going to plant the blueberry, but one thing led to another. I spread compost over the onions, garlic, strawberry pot, and a few other large pots I’ve yet to plant, watered some beds lightly in case it didn’t rain, brought in the tea towels from the laundry line in case it did rain, strolled around the grounds admiring a few things, pulling a few weeds. I noticed and praised the first potato leaves emerging in that bed, checked on the illicit asparagus patch, and puttered with some small tasks, all the while humming aloud or silently to myself like a grateful, busy bumblebee.
The crabapple blossoms survived last weekend’s windstorm, and ongoing windy days, but a juniper by the driveway lost part of a trunk.
The Fuji apple tree, though irregularly pruned by deer, has a few limbs with blooms, lit with late sun after rain. Our evening rounds brought satisfaction, contentment, and a light rainbow. I’m grateful for a day off with no obligations, time to plant, rest, and restore in the garden, time to meditate during the storm, and time to reflect on the blessings of this life I landed in.
