There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance- pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that’s for thought. -William Shakespeare
I love summer mornings when I can wake up with the sunrise and the world (it seems), as well as my loves, are still asleep and quiet. And I have time to sort out my thoughts. I do this best in my kitchen while measuring and weighing, mixing ingredients and watching something great come together.
In this quiet solitude, I take out my hurts and pains; so many shades of blue. I weigh and measure them as I do my ingredients. Some remain raw and heavy as they were the day they happened and I sink them quickly into the deepest, darkest oceans of my thought. In these quiet mornings, I look for answers. That never seem to come. But a walk in my garden always lifts me up; on dew laden grass, barefoot. I hear bird songs over scents of rosemary. I see the miracles of petals and leaves, and small creatures, and the beauty of life and decay and the fragility of it all.
Life is fragile. We are fragile. And we damage easily. But the thing about life is that another morning still comes and begins a new day with a new sunrise and if we are lucky enough to have that, then we should be grateful and make the most of it; weighing and measuring what we have and making something great out of it. Continue reading “shades of blue: breakfast blueberry oatmeal muffins”