Purple Power

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cauliflower

 

Last summer we were in temporary housing, but it didn’t stop the Bohemian from planting in the garden. At the time, he was particularly enthusiastic about eggplant. Months later, and the crop has become legendary in the neighborhood, as it continues to provide a seemingly endless yield. We’re all running out of recipes.

Yesterday we went to visit the old garden site, lush and abundant, and back in the hands of its original caretaker. We are gifted with one of our garden friend’s huge heads of cauliflower. A specimen of fractals in food-form, cream-colored, with purple highlights.

After presenting the cauliflower masterpiece, she stands waist-high in the eggplant patch, their heavy fruit dangling like tree ornaments. Keeping the running joke alive, she smiles holding clippers poised, mid-air.

“Eggplant?”

We laugh and say yes to the precious harvest, all in violet hues.

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Power

“I call middle!”

Jeb scootches in beneath the blanket, nestling himself between the Bohemian and I. We are laid out on the lawn, under a dome of stars, watching a curved shadow slowly creep across the moon.

Gazing skyward, we play “Techno Cosmo,” guessing whether any light-in-motion we see is human-made or celestial. We see mostly ‘techno,’ though the Bohemian catches one shooting star and both of my family members observe an inexplicable flash in the sky. I missed it, as my head was down toward the bowl of popcorn situated in my lap.

Of course, the big show was the ‘cosmo’ event of the full lunar eclipse. By the time the entire moon was covered in a hue of warm honey, Jeb was asleep, and I too, was fading fast. The Bohemian sang a quiet Czech song, lullabyesque, as I drifted off. Between the realms, I could discern one word – lasko. “Love”.

It was nice to be away from artificial light. Linger outside in the dark with the wind, the clouds, and one big old moon.

I guess we hadn’t had enough of grassroots, as we awoke this morning to no power in our house. In our abode we need electricity for water, lights and the internet. So before sunrise I was back to the basics, enjoying the irony of a couple of candles juxtaposing my laptop (which still ran on battery power).

With no way to reach the world-wide web, I contemplated the stamp upon my candle. The molten word “nirvana” glowing golden, just like last night’s moon.

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The Art of Using What You Have

2014-04-02_bench distantThis isn’t poetry or fine photography. But it’s art all the same, though it’s not mine.

This did start with pencil and paper. The Bohemian and I by lamp light, sketching out our garden plot. I was thinking of a resting place by our would-be vegetables. Somewhere to take a load off. And then I remembered that we were yet to figure out what to do with the downed Ironwood tree.

We’d taken all of the branches that could easily be cut with a chainsaw, and chopped them up into firewood. But the largest part of the trunk was huge, and too big to be put in a chipper for mulch.

Any chance we could use it to make a bench?

Inspired, chainsaw in hand, the Bohemian went to work, slicing the trunk in half and creating these beautiful, solid benches.

I don’t know exactly why, but simply gazing upon them makes me happy. Sitting on them is just plain dreamy.

I love functional art!

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