14 snails

14 snails

we just got some rain tonight. these snails have been perched on this wild fennel, dormant for several weeks. tomorrow morning, i expect they will be eating and drinking, and, of course, talking about the weather.

wild fennel with land snails

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botticelli

botticelli

aphrodite was born on cyprus and sailed to shore on a scallop shell, according to myth, and according to botticelli. if someone else is right, and botticelli is wrong, i don’t care. i’m stickimg with botticelli. also, before aprhodite steps into her shallow boat, i’d like to request that i get the little knob of white scallop flesh attached to the hull, in order to grill it, or sear it, with some good salted butter.

great scallop shells (coquille saint jacques)

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fall crocus

fall crocus

these fall crocuses are called “safran des pres” or field saffron. i don’t know if they actually contain harvestable amounts of saffron, but i love the fact that that such wealth and abundance can still be referred to here in september and october, when back in minnesota we are bracing for the long sterility of winter.

wild crocus from the banks of the orb river neat avène

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boys

boys

as a tomboy, i am unwilling to cede much territory in the battle of the sexes. i have done a lot of boyish things over the years, mostly because i simply assumed i could. it helped me a lot to have that attitude. but there is a particular kind of play that feels boyish to me, in a way that i don’t know i could imitate, and that i think is probably important for my newly 16 year old son. it’s the horseplay, the arbitrary but good natured violence of my two boys, the sixteen year old and the 53 year old, that seems to reside somewhere in their genes, and couldn’t be replicated simply by making the effort. yesterday my two boys went fishing on the celestially beautiful orb river, and brought home a brown trout for dinner. then they threw baguette butts at each other, and did some swearing. it appeared deeply satisfying to them, and i was happy not to be asked to make sense of it.

wild-caught brown trout (Orb River near Avène, France)

3.

  • Kimbersew says:

    I love that this photograph has no relative scale for me to gauge the size of the fish. (True of all of pictures of unfamiliar things standing alone, I guess) and I feel like there is something to say too about boyishness and manhood and silliness bragging rights and measuring up. bon appetit!

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standing still

standing still

because they are heavy-headed on slender stems, pampas grasses bob all day and night, swaying at the least suspicion of a breeze. so it was interesting to bring them indoors, close all the windows, and line them up in front of a backlit diffuser, to learn that they are all slightly different colors.

mediterranean pampas grasses from sète

  • Heather says:

    The subtle differences are … soothing.

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