I wish that parsley fresh plucked from a kitchen garden and placed in a blue vase would take me to the Italian countryside. But when I pinch a leaf and roll it between my fingers, the whiff of green and bits that stain is just parsley.
Small Stone 17
Perhaps the parsley in Italy packed more punch, or is it the way our memories smell stronger from afar.
ReplyDeleteMe too. I wish it took you there. It is beautiful, anyway.
ReplyDeleteSUrely, parsley in January is never just parsley. It may not be as good as summer parsley in Italy (which is exceedingly good)but it is still special. Such lovely flat leaves as well, against that blue vase. And a small stone...
ReplyDeleteIt is beautiful, though... and peaceful looking.
ReplyDeletei believe freud said that once, yes? sometimes parsley is just...parsley. (but, a little rigatoni, some chopped tomatoes, some diced garlic, a shot of olive oil, and a handful of grated parm...)
ReplyDeleteYou're not doing it right ;)
ReplyDeleteNow if you had a plane ticket stuck in that vase .... That would smell nice :)
ReplyDeleteoh this is heartachey good.
ReplyDeletexr