cliché for a reason

i’ve turned into the kind of traveler who never really needs to see another cathedral. another world capital. another iconic landmark. there are parts of the world that i know i am supposed to see, that i accept i will never actually see, because i know i won’t make the effort. i have seen the same kind of thing before and been left cold. but i can’t say that about the eiffel tower, which might be the single most clichéd cliché of all the clichés, and which nevertheless makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up everytime it swings into view around a bend of the seine. and the same goes for fields of lavender in bloom, running in parallel rows toward a stone farmhouse with a lichen covered clay tile roof. bring them all on. i can’t get enough.

lavender

passion

emergent. dangling. bulbous. fleshy. bright. engorged. ok, passion fruit. i get it.

passional fruit

we’re in california for four days visiting our daughter at college. what does that have to do with mediterranean sardines? well, the california coast from about cape mendocino down to baja is considered a mediterranean climate. in fact, in some ways, its climate more mediterranean, based on the definition, than the mediterranean itself. northern california and southern france are two of my favorite places on earth. hmmm. let me think about that one.

sardines

mediterranean, france

sugar
from what i can tell watching the activity in my back yard, the whole world is feeling a little bit romantic right now. squirrels, woodpeckers, warblers, red-winged blackbirds, ducks, and the neighbor kids and their girlfriends all seem to be chasing each other with a certain sort of single-mindedness. even these daffodils appear to be moving in on each other, angling for a little stolen sweetness.

daffodils

newborns
these new ferns look as if they’re straining. their heads look bowed in concentration, as if they’re thinking hard, but don’t know the next step. i know it’s dumb to personify plants, but i can’t help wishing they had a mama to lick off that fuzzy afterbirth, and stroke them upright with her tongue.

young fiddle head ferns

turtle lake, shoreview, minnesota