It's been such a lovely weekend - I can't even begin to say how much I needed to get away. It wasn't one of those deep relaxing, cathartic, re-energising weekends. More like, a chance to just be in the moment. To just let mind unfurl, to let stomach eat, and to feel the air. All things which seem simple, and ordinarily apparent, but which we often forget to do. I am trying hard to stop and acknowledge the moment more. Sooz has written some wonderful posts about it, and on her suggestion, to read Buddhism For Mothers, I bought the second book in the series, and have been trying to stop asking so many questions, stop trying to live so much in the past or in a future which has not happened.
A friend's beach house which has just been renovated [our design - not an architectural piece, more a utilitarian neatening of space], on a lake, on the south coast. A few boxes full of incredibly good food. I cooked, we ate, we drank. Salmon, ricotta and spinach ravioli with a white wine cream and sage sauce. Rocket, sauted mushrooms and chargrilled asparagus with roast lemon thyme chicken and fresh made cornmeal bread. Eggs bacon, left over corn meal bread and a garlic aoili for breakfast. Cherry strudel from the Strudel Baron.
I love the bush setting of the house. I love the outlook to the lake beneath us. I adored the swans (15 of them?) who sang in soft lullaby melodies one evening. Have you ever heard swans singing [honking, was a word we used, but that does not do it justice]? Before you die you must lie awake and hear a swan lullaby on a clear warm night. It is so lovely to hear - to really hear - the songs of birds. One of my favourite things is to lie in our bed up high in the house and listen to parrots calling around us on a warm afternoon. This weekend, I heard the birds all day.
And the best part was getting to go back to our little block of land and spend some time there. The plans have been sidelined till now, and so we take little moments every so often to go down and see how it is doing, re-aquaint ourselves, feel it all over again. There was a Bower bird nest - beautifully woven and constructed at the bottom of the site, which has gone for now, which is a pity, but I hope they come back. In it's place we found a Mulberry tree, with fresh ripe juicy flavoured fruit ready to be picked and eaten. I could make silk. Oh, if I could! But it is just a little tree yet. And flowers! The block was full of glorious colour. And I had to take something back with me to make it real - red flowers, delicate deep purple flowers and bush jasmine running wild. And sketches. Drawings, and linework for a house.
And tonight as I walked through the gate after work, there are the first gardenias in bloom, waiting to fill the front with their scent.