Thursday, 27 June 2013

Aromatic


The kitchen smelt of elderflower, until the grill warmed to cook sausages, until the boiled water hit the coffee grounds.
Outside we ate breakfast, seated over new mown grass. A pink rose, open, bowed a stem.
Later, where there is a shallowing over the brown shaded rocks, the river was forded. An elder bouquet, plucked and fetched home.
A bucketful of perfumed, foamy flower heads stands ready for brewing.
Now, rose tea steams in the pot.
Sweet spiced vegetables simmer on a slow cook. Under the petal scents, too, mouthwatering fat-blobs linger in the grill pan.
Somewhere in the sky an aeroplane carries Boy away, from Heathrow to New Delhi.
Ten days to wait before we hear those stories. I can't help but think of the market in Singapore, where the smeech of deep-frying ducks made his eyes water. We went to a café for breakfast then instead, went busily about our day. When we walked from an air conditioned shopping centre past a sizzle of food stalls he said in sweetly youthful innocence, with much feeling and fantastically clear diction: 'I hate that Chinese smell!'
We have teased him about it ever since.




4 comments:

  1. I love the closing photo where clouds gather and look down in gentle curiosity. I have seen them do that to my children.

    ReplyDelete
  2. From New Delhi to Chennai today, lucky adventurous Boy! He has a history teacher who visits India regularly and finds it so inspirational he decided to set up a school trip. I don't know if the clouds are different there but I hope they are gentle and curious, those are the best kind of clouds :-)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Rose tea sounds wonderful. Hope Boy enjoys his trip. :-)

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for reading my words- my chance to read yours here: