Wordless Wednesday - Little Green

Sequestered, 356 (CCCLVI)

Friday Ramble - Just a Little Green

Zen teacher and chef Dana Veldon thinks a simple bowl of lemons can offer us the world, and she always keeps one on the counter in her kitchen. Since I read her book (Finding Yourself in the Kitchen: Kitchen Meditations and Inspired Recipes from a Mindful Cook) years ago, I have been doing it too. She is right - the little dears are life-changing. I love the look of them when light coming through the kitchen window falls across them, their colour and shape, their texture and fragrance. They lift my spirits, and their citrusy goodness makes me smile.

Having a pot of parsley in one's kitchen is also a fine way of invoking the right stuff before spring and summer really get going, and I do that too. The smell of the stuff is uplifting, refreshing and bright and just a little grassy. When I discovered a bin in my green grocer's shop a few days ago, I grabbed a splendid bunch and merrily tossed it into my cart. The cherry tomatoes purchased on the same expedition were not too shabby either. Both went into the wok with odds and ends from the fridge, and the results were served on leftover rice for dinner that night. A banquet. Yum.

No doubt about it, lemons and parsley light up a kitchen, and as sure as the Old Wild Mother made little green apples, they cheer me up on a bleak morning. They turn my impromptu stirrings into happy magics, and that is what life is all about.

Wordless Wednesday - Raining, Greenly

Wordless Wednesday - Raining, Greenly

Sequestered, Week 163 (CLXIII)

Wordless Wednesday - Fragrant

Wordless Wednesday - In the Green

Thursday Poem - Bio

I am a leaf-dance in the woods.

I am the green gaze of the ocean.

I am a cloud-splitter in the sky.

I arrived robed in red

out of nowhere and nothing.

I whisper between pages.

I disappear in the painting.

I rest between musical notes.

I awake among strangers

in a country I never imagined.

I am timbales and bells,

a parade under your window.

I am the riddle I cannot solve,

hands on the clock's face,

seven crows on a branch.

I am the one whose footfall

changes the pattern of stars.

Dolores Stewart from The Nature of Things

(reprinted here with the late poet's kind permission)

Sequestered, Week 62 (LXII)

Thursday Poem - Bio

I am a leaf-dance in the woods.
I am the green gaze of the ocean.
I am a cloud-splitter in the sky.
I arrived robed in red
out of nowhere and nothing.
I whisper between pages.
I disappear in the painting.
I rest between musical notes.
I awake among strangers
in a country I never imagined.
I am timbales and bells,
a parade under your window.
I am the riddle I cannot solve,
hands on the clock's face,
seven crows on a branch.
I am the one whose footfall
changes the pattern of stars.

Dolores Stewart
from The Nature of Things
(reprinted here with the late poet's kind permission)