Waiting, Watching, Rooting

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Home. What makes it so sweet? Certainly not the square footage. The layout may enrich some harmony, but how we choose to live in it and how our home resonates with us and our surroundings makes a home as the saying goes, home sweet home. Feelings fluctuate, schedules change from time to time and so what was once important may not be so anymore. Adjustments will be made and even then, new circumstances will transpire, and your nest may amend to these needs. I’m trying to focus on the little but oh-so-grateful occurrences in our nest.On top a simple wooden table, an unadorned bowl. Inside a bowl, speckled beans soaking (anticipating some sprouting.)In a cast iron pot, a tomahawk bone brought home in a brown box from a renewed establishment that prides itself on grass-finished meat from a local farm. Sprinkled in a humble bowl of beans, fresh-cut herbs from the greenhouse. This special bone, capriciously made an exceptionally rich broth for heirloom beans along with our customary rice noodles that carried out its dutiful part throughout the (past) stormy season.

Under clear skies, exposed shoulders kissed by warm rays one day, the next those same shoulders shutter under dark and surging clouds that cast flurries below. An aide-mémoire to wild, beautiful and vulnerable nature and to what we were doing before we heaped on the layers. Flying balls indoors (prohibited of course but always so tempting), now are kicked on paved clay along budding trees perched with songbirds. Darting speckled little beings, my latest vista from my kitchen window—a scene that never gets old. On green grass, a quad of blue jays chirping and frolicking about in search of any seeds left behind the melted winter blanket. Back inside the nest, we watch the ornamental flakes falling with a mug of something warm. We wait to put on canvas sneakers and compete with long-crested songbirds with a large variety of calls that carry into the forest edge and beyond.In the meantime, more rounds around the kitchen isle in our much-adorned vehicle. One hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a recorder. Somewhat of a melody materializes and driving skills are honed. Undulating jade water heard from the partly opened window alleviates some angst, if you take the time to hear it. Waiting, watching and rooting for the long-awaited citrus trees to fill our nest with its sweetness before we transport them outside for their numbered summer days. We wait patiently for those days.

12 thoughts on “Waiting, Watching, Rooting”

  2. Everything in your home is an experience for one or all of your little bears. I love this post. Never has a pot of beans been more enticing. 🙂 i will have to Google “tomahawk bone” as I don’t know what that refers to, but even that name adds a little adventure to the beans. I have some heirloom beans in my pantry right now. I think they need to make an appearance this week. Lovely, Cristina!

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  3. I’m with you, I can’t wait for summer! I keep walking outside every morning hoping the garden is full of flowers and butterflies. Meanwhile, I rejoice in the crisp mornings full of bird’s singing as they build nests around our tress. Happy spring!

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    • Thank you I’m so touched by your kind words. Life is short, might as well make the best out of the simple things. We shared a porterhouse with dear friends we haven’t seen in four years so these beans with that bone in it was especially meaningful for me. As for the messiness it makes me uneasy, while I can’t endure clutter, eventually things find their places and I’m at ease again.

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