An Overload of Sweetness

 

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“That it will never come again
Is what makes life so sweet.”
– Emily Dickinson


Sweet

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Barking up the Right Tree

A tree wears its life on its skin.

Its roots may be hidden as it digs the ground; the rings in its trunk counted only when it falls. The leaves and twigs may be broken by the wind, but they will grow anew.

The bark shows all the scars of the seasons, the callouses from insects that burrow into it, the small garden of lichen and moss that it carries, the sap that oozes when it is wounded.

If a tree had a heart, it would be in its bark.

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Weathered

Fragrant Surprise from Ylang-ylang

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The essential oil from Ylang-ylang is highly valued and used in perfumes such as Chanel No. 5.

Its fragrance is described as “rich and deep with notes of rubber and custard, and bright with hints of jasmine and neroli.”

No wonder the garden smells heavenly when it blooms!


The name ylang-ylang is derived from the Tagalog term ilang-ilang for the tree that is a reduplicative form of the word ilang, meaning “wilderness”, alluding to the tree’s natural habitat… The plant is native to the Philippines, Malaysia and Indonesia and is commonly grown in Madagascar, Polynesia, Melanesia, Micronesia and Comoros Islands. It grows in full or partial sun, and prefers the acidic soils of its native rainforest habitat. – Wikipedia

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Unusual

A Different Take on the Lowly Rambutan

The rains have come, and so have the fruits. This year, the rambutans are already bearing fruit!

Fresh from the tree, to the plate, to the… lens?

 

Rambutan, like most tropical fruits, is eaten by opening/peeling the skin, hence it can be eaten fresh.

 

These look like eggs in a nest… or aliens waiting to hatch…

 

Who thought rambutan could be so… wet? No wonder ants like them!

 

As kids we were told not to play with our food — but who listened anyway? 🙂

I better get to them before the ants do!


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Savor

If a Plant Could Take a Selfie

It would be simple.

No string of pearls or fancy jewelry.
Just a few beads of water from this morning’s drizzle.

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No yoga on a beach or a surfer’s paradise.
Just a ride on the wave of a soft gentle breeze.

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No new age philosophy or a new uncovered diet.
Just a skin washed with rain and a glow from within.

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If a plant could take a selfie.

—–
Surprise on a drizzly Easter morning.