This exotic leaf or perhaps bract of a plant called Anthurium has sat in a vase in the hall of our house now for about two weeks and shows no sign of losing its shine. In the old days a total lunar eclipse, when Earth blocks the moon from the sun, particularly on the winter solstice, would have awakened alarms in the minds of soothsayers and their followers, as it must have done the last time in happened in 1638. Nowadays out come the cameras. For my scrapbook, a huge photograph (cut from The Independent Newspaper) of a red moon and its crimson light over a bluish, snow clad Pennine landscape, will keep the event alive in my mind.
Down to the vegetable garden where the pigeons have spared a few of the sprouts which I have been saving for Christmas dinner. On the way the track of a fox makes me feel glad that the wild has not entirely vanished from our local environment. I hack off the stems of the sprout plants laden with little green spheres,which I will pick off later in the warmth of the kitchen.
2 comments:
Little sprouts. I don't get as close to nature as you but I do sort through the tray at the supermarket, picking only those about 10 mm in diameter. Funny how people sneer about sprouts. I can only conclude the sneerers are conditioned by the old style, à l'anglaise destructive system of cooking. I lov 'em, and the oh-so-rare brussel tops even more.
I am overly fond of sprouts roasted with olive oil and lots of garlic.
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