芒种 mángzhòng / 芒種 bōshu / 망종 mangjong
榴月十一 / eleventh day of the pomegranate month
I was towelling my hair when I noticed the light seeping through the window filling up the bathroom.
Suddenly it was so quiet.
Then bird songs.
And footsteps. And doors opening and closing.
A plane flies by.
I was reluctant to flick the artificial lights on. I'd rather do what I have to do in semi-darkness.
We are nearing the summer solstice. Soon the sun will gradually yield to the moon as the days become shorter and the nights longer. Is that why the rising and setting sun has been putting on such a good show?
芒种 mángzhòng / 芒種 bōshu / 망종 mangjong
榴月初九 / ninth day of the pomegranate month
Pleasurable things.
Waking up, drinking a mug of hot water in bed before properly getting up.
Softly-cooked eggs (with rocket and tarragon) for the first meal.
Working on the plot on my knees, feeling the sun on my back and neck.
Back inside feeling soft and warm from sun and labour. Eating something sweet - Fern Verrow's honeycomb on Carr's Table Water - for an instant lift.
Arranging leaves for the loo.
Eating rice (with chicken, asparagus, broad bean, pea shoot and leek).
Drinking tea and picking petals off drying roses. Catching boiling water at the right stage of bubbling. Practising sucking in the air with sips of tea so as to better taste it. Smelling the core of the roses when all the petals have been plucked. Feeling (?) the residual sweetness in the mouth after many cups of good tea.
Sitting in hot water.
Getting in bed before it is fully dark. Feels almost indecent for a city-dweller but the days are getting longer and longer and then they will turn.
