For breakfast I had swiss muesli and a coffee on the back deck.
For the last few weeks I've been watching as the fruit on my orange tree slowly grows and transitions from a dark green to the bright orange they are now. They are the sweetest juiciest oranges you've ever eaten, and haven't seen a touch of pestecide - the only thing protecting them is the mass amount of spiders that live in the tree.
I muse over my plants too much - but for me, when I see the flower buds on my beloved jasmine bush start to emerge I know that the warmer weather is just around the corner, and that my entire house will smell like jasmine (it really is the most amazing smell).
Last weekend when I was visiting my parents, I was telling my dad about my thriving jasmine bush, and how I hoped it didn't flower while I was away. Dad told me a story that I hadn't heard before, suggesting why it is I may have this slight obsession with my jasmine bush.
Apparently when I was brought home from the hospital after being born, the fence along side my nursery window was covered in a massive flowering jasmine vine - and that my room was constantly filled with the smell of the flowers. I thought that was a nice little connection.
One day I'll travel to Grasse and walk through the fields of flowering jasmine just before dawn (when it is at its aromatic peak)
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