Here's how things are rocking early in the morning. Frightening thunderstorms last night, sounds I'd never heard before, breaking a fiercely windy hot spell that had lasted for two unnerving days. That summer heat brought on cravings for fresh ripe luscious fruit, but that's not what the farmers are selling, yet. Here in NYC we're still on apples and pears. But I wandered into a fragrant new Teavana shop on Broadway where they were brewing all sorts of infusions, and came out with a Wild Orange Blossom blend that is now doing double duty as potpourri (I love that word, because of the rot hidden in it, not exactly what comes to mind when we set potpourri out in our rooms but there you have it.) I made up a pot for the day, will ice it if the heat returns; I'm using infusions to satisfy that C craving. (I remain forever loyal to In Pursuit of Tea for Camellia sinensis, though.)
I've been buying crazy amounts of daffodils, just to have that bright trumpet sounding nearby as I work. And I can't bear to throw them away when they shrivel, so I've been carpeting a windowsill with them. Better than paint.
I've also been wandering through a lot of music these days, and by way of an all-time favorite, Yo Yo Ma's Goat Rodeo Sessions, discovered the land of Crooked Still where I have settled for hours (right now listening to Still Crooked.) Aoife O'Donovan has a voice of deep purity and passion, an unusual combination; she keeps each note clean even when "low down and dirty and I love the way you do..."