Oh, how I love the  early morning ritual of watering the strawberry patch. After showering the plants, I check for those stealthy snails that have made their way into the garden overnight to take massive bites out of the fruit. I pull out any weedlets (my word for baby weeds), lest they invade the entire bed. Then I watch dozens of bees flit to and from strategically-planted lavender bushes to lamb's ears, and seaside daisies, and on to the freshly moistened flowers of the strawberries. It may sound silly to you, but watching this small but nonetheless glorious event makes me sigh with joy. 

Minus seven and a 'severe' frost this morning prompted me to pop outdoors and check on the lemons. Thankfully the pots are partly sheltered by the eaves and all three plants are content and fruiting profusely. Having waited a lifetime to own a lemon tree, seeing these beauties on the verandah (and the kitchen bench) is balm for my soul.  

My father, András, was a barber for most of his life. Thinking back it all seems so deliciously vintage now, if you understand my meaning. He wore a crisp white jacket and there was a red and white striped post out the front of his barber shop, Budapest Hairdresser. Leather and chrome swivel chairs took pride of place on the chequerboard black and white linoleum tiles, and mirrors lined the walls. On the bench tops, thin black combs sat in tall glass canisters filled with a mild solution of disinfectant. I can still remember the smell. Rolls of delicate white paper towelling sat alongside jewel-shaped plastic spritz bottles filled with water, together with soft-bristled wooden-handled brushes, electric clippers, brown rubber squeeze gadgets containing talcum powder, and rows of scissors and cut-throat razors which were tucked neatly into a cloth pouch. Working from home and doing what she could to help, my mother sewed stylish capes from black and white patterned fabric especially for the shop.

'There are few more important foods in the world than the potato. Its history goes back to the early days of man—a past spanning feast and famine. Potatoes were discovered by pre-Inca Indians in the foothills of the Andes Mountains in South America and archaeological remains have been found dating from 400BC on the shores of Lake Titicaca, in ruins near Bolivia, and on the coast of Peru. Now the potato is the staple food for two thirds of the world's population.' 
                                                                                                — The Potato, its history, Discovering Potatoes by Alex Barker.

Bee on lilac agapanthus (African lily) flower

'If the bee is, as the French say, "the sentinel of the environment", then the fact that large numbers of bee colonies are perishing around the world is an alarming sign that we must ...  attempt to reconnect with a nature that is rapidly disappearing.'
                                                                                         - Tim and Emma Malfroy, Natural Beekeeping Australia

Lemons in the making... 'from blossoms released by the moonlight'

From blossoms
released
by the moonlight,
from an
aroma of exasperated
love,
steeped in fragrance,
yellowness
drifted from the lemon tree,
and from its plantarium
lemons descended to the earth.
                                                                                                 A Lemon by Pablo Neruda