I had my first spring meal, and it was so, so good. After a winter of eating bland, sad vegetables grown just for the sake of making money, eating spring greens right outside my front door is like coming home.
I made catnip/dandilion pesto. It’s what happens to be growing prolifically on my yard right now. The catnip counters the bitter dandelion. I had on top of oat pasta, vidallia onions and kidney beans. Hmmmm good!!
These little guys were happy to let me and the boys sit close by and listen to their happy chatter and watch their busy flutterings. Nothing like the prudish ducks who make a bee line out of the pond as soon as we come into view.
They look like they might be Golden-Crowned Kinglets.
Me and the boy’s went out last night to soak in the sunset. We perched on a huge field stone, surrounded by trees that love me and said good-bye to another day. We contemplated the sadness I carry and how to make each moment sacred when it’s easier to engage in hate and despair.
Then a crazy flock of seagulls breezed on by, seemingly high as a kite. The seagulls were having some sort of to do last night to the west of me. They flew by in small groups, sporadically, but all evening. This one rather large flock must have strayed from the straight and narrow and stopped in at a pub before continuing their journey. Their flight plan was in tatters, swirling about in circles, a most inefficient way to get from point a to b. But it was good for a laugh.
They reminded me that life was perfect. A pink cotton candy sky, layers upon layers of exquisite colorings that shifted every few minutes, horses grazing, rubber boots that don’t leak, two dogs that adore me, a pasture that’s mine to roam in, a warm house to go back to, a moment without the sadness.