Putting Ourselves in the Path of Beauty in Everyday Ramblings

Off the winding parkway up above my place there is this one patch of scrub hill. Over the years a desire path has appeared as a shortcut up to the hospitals. Then last February when we had the ice/snow event that damaged so many trees the hillside became more open and a few months ago I noticed a substantial formal path was appearing, (not completed) and planted along each side were bunches of wildflowers. You can see them from up above as well as below.

Today I finally took the time to go take pictures. There was a lone guy working on extending the path, a neighbor from a nice house about a third of the way down the hill. I saw him go back there to get something. What a wonderful pandemic project.

I was listening to a young well know yoga teacher yesterday who is trained as an architect, lives in Austria, (though she is American), talking about choosing to go to the old post office next to the cathedral on her bike instead of a closer drabber one that she can walk to. She goes she says because she knows it will be beautiful there. She paraphrased an apparently famous saying by Cheryl Strayed’s mother, “Put yourself in the path of beauty.” About how that is a choice.

That is what I was thinking about after Open Practice this morning and why I made the decision to walk over and take pictures of the wildflowers. An oasis in the midst of a drought.

Yesterday I made lemon bars. I haven’t baked in months. You know how Kindle and Audible will tease you with a free or low cost first book in a series? I got the first in the Joanna Fluke romance mystery series and read it a few weeks back. The protagonist has a coffeeshop that specializes in homemade cookies.

I read one further on in the series about two years ago and that is where I got the recipe for the chocolate cookies with potato chips in them. These recipes are about as Midwest as a recipe can get and are ample in size. Nothing fancy here, no orange blossom water. :) Having ordered organic lemons in my Imperfect Box last week I got 6 small perfectly fine lemons with a little scarring.

It only juiced out to half what was needed for the recipe, so I improvised and added the rest by juicing a couple of oranges. The recipe also called for an astonishing about of butter and sugar but that is why we make and eat and share these treats isn’t it?

So now I have a bunch of lemon bars in my freezer for treat emergencies and will look to America’s Test Kitchen for a better crust recipe. I think I could also use the pecan toffee squares crust recipe too. That crust is easy and about perfect. I just need to get my baking mojo back in play. Yesterday it took me a while to figure out how to get the blade out of the food processor.

It feels a bit fragile, like a seedling, but for the last two mornings there have been three compatible people on the Open Practice call. I had this idea that it would be a short place to check in early, get some blood flow to all the joints and a little artistic uplift and then get on with one’s day and that seems to be being realized. I don’t want to jinx it, but I am chuffed that folks are benefiting from it. And unlike my evening classes, which are seriously dog centric, the morning practice has five cats to one dog. No birds that I am aware of.

You know, with Zoom, we see pets.

Kes and Most Honorable got a little garden care package to take home Sunday. A perfect sized courgette (it sounds so much more elevated than a late summer zucchini), some handsome small (but bigger than cherry) tomatoes, a few fresh picked chard leaves, and my biggest carrot to date. Beware a family member that has just discovered the enthusiasms of gardening.

Apparently in Germany the allotments are big, with sheds, like in England. I am so jealous. They have a rule that they need to be 1/3rd for fruit or veg, 1/3rd for hanging out and recreation and relaxing, and 1/3rd for beauty. You, know, flowers and the like.

There are signs of fall everywhere. There is that sweet melancholy that comes with the shift. I do like the idea though that all over the place in these latitudes folks are planting their bulbs for spring.

And I am so glad now to have the ability for regular communication with those of you making your own transition out of winter into a colorful landscape that brings such joy and birdsong as everyone who can gets out and gets busy.

Last updated September 07, 2021