A phone call from Elizabeth and my mind is reeling and my senses are pulsating – she so vividly described a place in Tuscany she visited yesterday, Vinci Italy, where Leonardo da Vinci lived- a place and a way of life so many try to copy but can never. She drove there in a Fiat, of course, with her friend from NY and a new friend, a Roman man she met at the market a few weeks ago. He is a former art history teacher that now sells vintage clothes in the market in Florence – I am not kidding, these beautiful people really do exist. The smells and the sounds that she told me of is a place that is only in my head. She said it too, it is a place that she only imagined and never thought was there. But it is.
After talking to her for nearly an hour and “seeing” the Tuscan countryside through her vibrant metaphors, I made coffee and while it perked I went outside and turned over the still cold earth. It was something, however small, I could do to extend the conversation and the mental and spiritual connection I made to Tuscany. In disparity, however, I found myself working in this ridiculous invention called a flower bed – why have I done this – this is not how flowers grow, they are not meant to grow in beds with toxic nuggets and Miracle Gro, they grow free in fields and plots of land where honey bees pollinate them and rich soil is amended with leaves and time and they grow where you want them to be not in some lined up pattern that has “curb appeal”. They grow under the Tuscan Sun.
That is what I saw in her words – Nature unleashed but so beautiful and real. She told me of little farm houses and each had small quirky gardens where the people who live there kept their food and the sky was cerulean and the air was sweet – untouched somehow. There were butterflies and bees and good food and drink and people who remained true.
I left the ridiculousness of the flower beds and walked in the field behind my house to smell the blossoms on the plum trees. I stooped down to smell the strong fragrance of the narcissi bulbs that are blooming and scattered in my yard – quaint reminders of each Christmas I have spent in this house (I have forced them each of the 30 plus Christmases I have lived here and then planted them in my yard each of the 30 plus springs that have followed).
And I collected the brown eggs from my prolific hens.
I moved some St Josephs from a place of concealment to a place I will see each day when I drive up. These bulbs were from Miss Sue’s yard, a pass along plant, and are so valuable to me. How special that I am tending to them today, this day that is much about Italy for me. They bloom around March 19, the feast of St Joseph – the fava bean, the feasts at the altars, and all that great Italian cultural matter. The Universe is syncing for me today…
I am feeling wonderful about this abandonment – no rules to follow today – just going where spirit takes me. That trip through Tuscany did it for me and the purity of my daughter’s viewpoint brought it home…I know I have said this before – we can learn so much from our kids – their minds are so open and untainted and they generously share their thoughts and experiences, we need to listen.
So here is an entry that exemplifies the real reason I began this blog – it is a letter to “self” – it is my soul telling my ego what to do and because I enjoy writing – this is where I easily and comfortably go. And as I wrote many entries before, if my little “stories” are things you connect to also, then it is a really “good thing”, if not, it is just “my thing”…