Does spring not feel a lot like love, creeping up almost imperceptibly from the first buds in January to an explosion by its late, as if the plants themselves are wafting pheromones into the air. I often wonder how Reuben views spring with his absence of smell, the olfactory nerve. His mood unchanged with the seasons unlike my own, aloft with the sensuality of spring when it is upon us.
A magical way to start the new month with a return to the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens. Today we wondered through the children’s garden where the boys enjoyed the freedom of running through petalled tunnels and exploring the sensory delights of water on pebbles and metal, the Japanese garden where we soaked in the showy beauty of the peach blossoms, and here, at our favourite magnolia tree and a petalled strew lawn.
This is my ultimate place of solace, my pleasure palace in southern California. So thankful that we have these places to visit in our dizzy world which enrich mind and body, earth us and allow us to stop and soak in beauty.
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