Spot of green through a window

Nature is part of our life even if we aren't aware of it. Sitting here on my old- fashioned armchair, apparently alone in a silent Sunday home, I watch through the window a beautiful though quite grown- wild spot of green which seems to take me company and protect me from bad thoughts.
Many a times I wrote about the importance of giving - and learning - the proper names of plants or flowers surrounding us. If we pay attention and recognise them, we can find a huge number of new friends ready to stand by us on cloudy days like today. No matter the weather, our green friends or colour flowers will be there for us to watch them!
But if we really don't know them by name, and simply take the pleasure of looking through the window taking notice of a lushing spot of green, isn't it worth anyway?


Un angolo di verde attraverso la finestra

La natura è parte della nostra vita anche se non ce accorgiamo. Seduta qui sulla mia poltrona di vecchia fattura, apparentemente sola in questa domenica e in una casa silenziosa, guardo attraverso la finestra un bellissimo – anche se troppo cresciuto - angolo selvaggio di verde che sembra tenermi compagnia e proteggermi dai brutti pensieri.

Ho scritto molte volte sull’importanza di dare – e imparare – i nomi corretti delle piante o dei fiori che abbiamo attorno. Se gli dedichiamo attenzione e li riconosciamo, possiamo trovare un gran numero di  nuovi amici pronti a starci accanto in giornate nuvolose come questa. Non importa quale sia il tempo fuori, i nostri amici verdi o i colori dei fiori saranno lì per noi che vogliamo ammirarli!

Ma se non li conosciamo per nome e semplicemente ci godiamo il piacere di far caso a un lussureggiante angolo di verde da una finestra, non ne vale comunque la pena?

Nice day, sunny, but rather windy.

Ok, I'm not a wind love. Let me know why I should be happy with my hair uncombed, freezing skin and dry-too-quick vase pots or borders in urgent need od extra waatering.
Is there anything else whch I might expect from a windy afternoon?
My lemons gently tossing after a long winter spent in my my dark garage and the stems of my antique roses are trembling or announcing their yellow-vanilla colours to come.
And the apricot tree with its waving leaves recalls me that - if it's a good year- there will be plenty of joyful products to  indulge in even till next winter . marmelade mainly, but also juicy canned fruits with sugar and syrup. All right, it's  a good day, anyhow.

Smiling at the clouds

It is said that there are two kinds of people: sunrise people and sunset people. Sunrise people have vision and look forward to what the future has to offer. Sunset people have dreams and look back nostalgically to a previous better  ages which they hope will occur again. Which do you think you are?

For what appalling it might sound, being in love with (my) past and feeling curious about the ways of living in the centuries before, I must  be a sunset person. However, far from being a visionary or a nostalgic dreamer, I make my way down to life surrounded by details which I collect wherever and whenever I can. Not really pessimistic about my future, rather optimistic that small pieces of experience, knowledge and affection can make me smile at the clouds.

What to become of us

Very little seems to remain to be done in my kitchen garden for the next week. Now it's time to wait and gently hope for new plants and sun to come. Most of the preparatives are completed and it's lovely to take a rest enjoying the predictions of what might be of me and my veggie in a few weeks. Some blues are always around the corner in life, so it's easy to fall in a pensive mood and wonder what to become of us.

Tulips, daffodils and hellebore's leaves

The overwhelming joy of the new season coming meets a rather pleasing nostalgia for the winter atmosphere we are leaving. Stll some singering hawls or covers on the sofa and warm socks are still lingering around on breezing evenings. Some part of me is already missing the lovely nights in front of the sofa, warming up my feets and relaxing with a cup of chamomile. It's my usual difficulty in changing the season and being able to leave behind habits and cozy routine. Is it only my trouble?
Here's a tribute to that feeling of nostalgia mixed with willing curiosity for the new to come: an easy and neat flower composition ready to spend the weekend with me!
The very last tulips and daffodilds  in my border find a joyful companion along with the hellebore's leaves and an oldfashioned crochet basket. What nice memories of the just gone Christmas with wondeful whitish hellebores - so impressive under the first snow! Now its flowers have left space to beautiful leaves in a dark shade of green which perfectly fit close to long daffodils and slender tulips. The old and the new together, adding a  sense of hope and comfort to my weekend.

What to do on a lovely homely weekend

Though the weather might be rather disappointing today and slightly encouraging for a walk outside, it's a pleasure to have time to plan your coming days in the sunshine.
It needs a little bit of preparation to start up with cleaning and adjusting your garden furniture, not to mention to establish new locations for your not-any-longer indoor plants. But what a satisfaction when you feel you have got a totally new and larger space to live up your time.
So, cheer up  during this cloudy weekend and prepare yourself for the warmer season - which is really so close now.

Notes from a modern spinster

Who says a single woman's life is all "Sex and the city"?
Much more close to a lovely modern Miss Marple searching for human nature.

Sitting lonely and rather sick in this  gloomy and rainy afternoon, a glance to my tulips in blossom makes me feel a palpable connection to something bigger than myself – to everything.

Not everyone has the ability to seek out nature in difficult times. But it’s there. Even in the most densely populated neighborhoods, in alleys and the cracks of sidewalks, we can find the insistent natural world and take comfort from it.