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Notes06/12/2021
Tofuwachtel
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Tofuwachtel
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42
Golden shadow
It was the same ritual every morning.
Early the alarm clock rang and she stepped to the window, opening it wide. This early hour, she loved it. There was still a shallow haze over the meadows and a light fresh breeze was blowing. Quickly she got ready and went down the stairs.
The first path always led her to the kitchen.
Peel the lemon zest and add it to fresh mineral water along with a few herbs. Slightly cooled a wonderfully aromatic summer drink. Of it then everyone could help themselves throughout the day.
Then out into the garden. The earth under her feet already a little sun warmed, but still a quäntchen damp. Past the small colorful flower bed, in which already almost more herb than rose was recognizable.
Her goal was the old hammock whose green fabric had become a little rough in the course of time and the wide leather lacing had almost grown into the trunks of the trees. Tartly beautiful she always felt this place to be.
A fine delicate bitter spicy smell emanated from the herbs she was about to pick. But first she sat down in the hammock, dangling her feet and enjoying them touching the soft, delicately spicy moss as she rocked gently. Here she took her time, enjoying the sweet idleness and recharging her batteries.
Warm, soft and golden, the sun's rays fell diffusely through the spicy foliage, melting into the cool shade, leaving a few small, pale droplets of resin on the branches to shimmer softly.
Slowly, she stood up, cut the slightly tart herbs, and walked smiling along the sunny path back to the house.
Early the alarm clock rang and she stepped to the window, opening it wide. This early hour, she loved it. There was still a shallow haze over the meadows and a light fresh breeze was blowing. Quickly she got ready and went down the stairs.
The first path always led her to the kitchen.
Peel the lemon zest and add it to fresh mineral water along with a few herbs. Slightly cooled a wonderfully aromatic summer drink. Of it then everyone could help themselves throughout the day.
Then out into the garden. The earth under her feet already a little sun warmed, but still a quäntchen damp. Past the small colorful flower bed, in which already almost more herb than rose was recognizable.
Her goal was the old hammock whose green fabric had become a little rough in the course of time and the wide leather lacing had almost grown into the trunks of the trees. Tartly beautiful she always felt this place to be.
A fine delicate bitter spicy smell emanated from the herbs she was about to pick. But first she sat down in the hammock, dangling her feet and enjoying them touching the soft, delicately spicy moss as she rocked gently. Here she took her time, enjoying the sweet idleness and recharging her batteries.
Warm, soft and golden, the sun's rays fell diffusely through the spicy foliage, melting into the cool shade, leaving a few small, pale droplets of resin on the branches to shimmer softly.
Slowly, she stood up, cut the slightly tart herbs, and walked smiling along the sunny path back to the house.
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