Hokkaido has entered the dormant season where the once-colorful leaves have crumbled to brown dust and snow will soon cover all traces of ground vegetation and even the mis-matched colors of our house roofs and automobiles.This is when I really start appreciating the colors of our fruits and vegetables. Sure, we have beautiful produce during our brief summers, but I guess I don't appreciate their colors as much as they deserve, because, outside, the leaves on the trees are all shades of green, flowers bloom like pieces of the rainbow, and butterflies flit like floating flower petals.
In the setting of a monochromatic winter, purple-skinned sweet potatoes and persimmons the color of the sun really brighten my world. I picked out a couple samples from my illustrated recipes as evidence.
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Oooohhh! I remember growing the purple skinned sweet potato at my mother's garden in the Philippines.
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Aaah, Debbie, I won't argue about love. Politics, maybe, but not love. Hehehe.
Edna St. Vincent Millay also wrote a poen I cannot remember about walking aimlessly in the daylight and plunging into the abyss at night at the passing of a loved one. I remember reading that poem right after my mother's passing and I could not find a more appropriate poem.
Thank you.
Love does not relieve pain. Morphine, perhaps... :)
@Ces, I shared that poem because I agreed with you, not because I didn't. You get no argument from me. ;)
ReplyDeleteHeheh! I did not think you were but I think in the end she said she will keep love and exchange it. Rightly so. Ah, anyway, I don't think I explained myself very well. I have nothing against love, I am referring to the overemphasis of it among romantics, but I have been accused of being one. So there goes. :)
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