“We should have a tenderness toward the mundane.”—Cezanne
Agreed! And remember the many, true pleasures that can be found there.
This week I’m slicing heirloom tomatoes (yellow, purple, red, green) from the farm market and serving them on white plates with brown butter. I’m appreciating Black Eyed Susans which are abundant enough that I’ve put vases in every room in the house, including the stairwell. I’m loving my old bike which spent the last two years in a barn in Michigan. Now that it’s here with me in Massachusetts, I can take myself on bike rides as a way to get to know the area better. Last night I stayed out until sundown; long enough to see the fat, full moon rise over the potato fields and over the Connecticut River. It’s the so-called Grain Moon. And I’m finding a simple pleasure is hanging my sheets outdoors because they look lovely and lively on the line, I prefer folding laundry in the yard, and because the bed smells so fresh and summery when I bring them indoors at night. Yes, the sacred is in the mundane.