Hark, I hear a robin calling!
List, the wind is from the south!
And the orchard-bloom is falling
Sweet as kisses on the mouth.
In the dreamy vale of beeches
Fair and faint is woven mist,
And the river's orient reaches
Are the palest amethyst.
Every limpid brook is singing
Of the lure of April days;
Every piney glen is ringing
With the maddest roundelays.
Come and let us seek together
Springtime lore of daffodils,
Giving to the golden weather
Greeting on the sun-warm hills.
~Lucy Maud Montgomery, Spring Song
Last night as I walked home from work, a light mist was falling. It was not yet dark, but twilight . . . that space of time before the light of day finally fades and the dark of night takes over. The birds were calling to each other from the treetops, as if to say, hurry up, hurry up . . . the day is fast ending and we must all be about our business of bedding down . . . hurry . . . hurry . . .
I looked up at the trees and all are in leaf or in bloom, whereas, just a few weeks ago they were all bare. Everything is looking green and fresh. The Robin's nest, which sets in the tall tree next to the hedge which separates the grounds of the big house from ours, is invisible now . . . but I know she's there . . . the nesting robin . . . I could hear her beautiful song ringing out against the darkening sky . . . a wonderfully heartwarming sound amidst the fading light . . .
The air smelt clean and fresh, of new green leaves and blossoming bush, of damp pavement . . . a smell that I truly love. I do not mind the mist. It is like a soft whisper against my skin. It does not assail or beat . . . but lays gently in the air around me, stroking me, all silent . . . save for the collected drops that fall in gentle plops from the leaves of the trees and bushes onto the damp and fragrant earth. Even the puddles are still . . .
Oh England, I do love you . . . but most especially so in the Springtime . . .
Come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.
~Felicia D. Hemans, Voice of Spring
Yesterday, Todd feasted on a chicken curry and rice and I feasted on Pasta. Todd is not a pasta lover as you know. I think it is the texture or some such. In any case if I cook pasta for him, he is not a very happy camper, although he will eat it. Myself, on the other hand, I just adore pasta. I could eat it in any way shape or form, and have been known to sit down and eat just a plain bowl of spaghetti with nothing but melted butter, salt and pepper to adorn it. I guess I must be a died blue carbaholic! Yesterday I added a bit more than butter, salt and pepper though . . . and it was wonderful!
We were both happy.
*Spaghetti with Olives, Tomatoes and Basil*
Not only is this cheap and tasty, but you can have it on the table in 15 minutes flat! It's also very easy to halve this recipe if you are only feeding a few people and once again it's low fat and counts as one of your five a day!
14 ounces of dry spaghetti
300g pack of cherry tomatoes, halved
20g of basil leaves, roughly torn into pieces
1 TBS of capers, drained
a small handful of stoned olives (I like to use the dry cured ones)
1 TBS butter
handful of freshly grated Parmesan
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Cook the spaghetti according to the package directions. Scoop out a small cup of the cooking water before draining, then drain the spaghetti completely.
Tip the cherry tomatoes, basil, capers, olives and butter into the hot pan and place over the residual heat of the burner and allow to heat for a few minutes. Toss in the spaghetti and add some of the cooking water, if needed, to loosen. Serve in a heated bowl with plenty of Parmesan, some sea salt and a good grinding of black pepper.
Ahhhhh . . . Nirvana.