Wildflowers and sunlight

(123:  Flowers in the early morning sunlight.  RMNP, Co.  Photo © 2009 by Robin)

Be content to stand in the light, and let the shadow fall where it will.

~ Mary W. Stewart

This photo originally went with a post I had written last Sunday.  I was sitting at my mother’s kitchen table, writing about how strange it felt to be sitting there without her.  Although unrealistic, I kept expecting her to come walking in any moment, having been out on a squad call or running errands.  There is a surreal quality surrounding death.  I don’t know how to describe it just yet.

Yesterday I read over the post and decided it was too personal and too raw to make it public.  I sat here for a while, trying to decide what to do it.  I finally saved it and started over.  However, what came out was a long and sarcastic piece that is also unsuitable for publication.  It was good to work out some of the snarkiness (anger) that was building up alongside the sadness.

Today I am taking another step towards the state of normal, whatever that may be.  M and I made a trip to Hilgerts and picked up lots and lots of fresh produce.  I have a peck of tomatoes and a peck of peppers.  There are a half dozen (plus one) ears of corn, a beautiful butternut squash, a watermelon, a cantaloupe, various cucumbers, red onions, and hot Hungarian peppers.  Everything looked so fresh and beautiful.  It was hard to decide so we added to that some eggplant, cabbage, zucchini, yellow squash, and yellow tomatoes.

This afternoon I’m going to make gazpacho with the tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, and peppers.  Gazpacho is one of my favorite summertime soups and I usually try to make a couple batches of it once the tomatoes and peppers come in.  Tomorrow I’ll make a big batch of (hot) vegetable soup using the majority of the vegetables we bought.  The eggplant will end up as baba ghanoush, first cooked on the grill so it will have a nice smokey flavor to it (although, having looked at a few eggplant recipes, this sounds pretty good too).

Now that I look at the list, it sounds pretty ambitious.  That’s ok.  I’ve got all day.


6 Comments on “Wildflowers and sunlight”

  1. alittlediddy says:

    Absolutely beautiful photo, Robin.

  2. Anna Surface says:

    Beautiful quote and gorgeous photo. Yes, there is surreal quality surrounding death. I can relate to what you mean about the kitchen as there were the memories and absence when my father had passed… he on the phone. I could still hear his laugh. Robin, I appreciate all you’ve been sharing. I hadn’t had that back then. You write really well in conveying all you’ve been through and how you feel. Blessings to you.

    • Robin says:

      Thank you, Anna.

      I’m glad I have this venue to share my mother with you and the rest of the world. She was an amazing woman. There is a hole in the world where she used to be and I think it will always be there. That said, she will always be with me in some form or another too. 🙂


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