morning coffee

on being

We take our morning coffees and sit on a stone among the olive trees. One day we will build wooden chairs here. I’ll come down from the house with a blanket and a book and get lost, dwelling in nature.

The trees are full of dark, small, greasy, and shiny olive jewels. Are they ready to be picked?
We seek expert opinion, the oil we have from the last olive harvest two years ago is about to end…

between-the-olives

Morning between the olives. Me, in my boots, him (who you can not see) and one confused Almond tree bloom.

There is a mediative quality to sitting between the trees.  We barely talk, just let the wind caress our faces. The warm coffee softens our hands and souls, this is a sacred moment that raises resolutions to pause, to strive for less and just be.

In the endless green we noticed a pink spot – an Almond tree(!)  we didn’t know we had, confused by the warm weather thinking it’s springtime, that has started to bloom. We are washed with gratitude.

 

Time and again, however well we know the landscape of love,

and the little church-yard with lamenting names,

and the frightfully silent ravine wherein all the others

end: time and again we go out two together,

under the old trees, lie down again and again

between the flowers, face to face with the sky. 
-Rainer Maria Rilke