Oh cool breeze, oh rustling leaves, rain in a shadowed forest. Oh— the blue sky over bright beach heat— these are the days that come. Metaphoric symbols of humanities rites. My dusk meets your dawn as we say hello & wave goodbye out on horizon’s highway. Let’s not fool ourselves. We’ve missed each other, but wear loneliness well. I hugged my daughter today. It had been awhile. We both cried desperate tears and held on. That is what all of us do. Hold on.
She lives in Brooklyn, my daughter. Across the street, a neighbor keeps homing pigeons. We watched from her window. I brought food, brunch fare. Sono sourdough bagels, Ben’s cream cheese, CATSMO Smoked Scottish salmon, red-ripe Hummingbird tomatoes, and yes, a red onion. She supplied the ground pepper and the cold brew, Grady’s. Liked it a lot, it’s now in the store. Try it. We ended with Michelle’s Macs. You have got to try these too. They are adult Mounds.
Beside brunch, I surprised her with a box of some of her favorites, white ripe peaches, some bing cherries and jumbo blueberries, and yes, plums and a few nectarines. I included a smooth, mellow olive oil & a young, grassy version too. She enjoys cooking. I put in a nice piece of sushi grade salmon, kept (I thought) cleverly cold with a frozen Joyce Farm boneless chicken breast. I laid a few peonies over the attractions and covered with paper. This all reminded me of the mornings making her school lunches a ways back in time. It made me smile.
Everyday feels like a family reunion of late. Would you agree? And what’s up with homing pigeons? See ya when I see ya!