Senses

Every year I have this recurring love affair with the change of season. As a child it used to spell disaster. Allergies, endless trips to the doctor, bundled up in shoes and coats and always having to take the worst home cures! Cod liver oil, Scotch Emulsion (No it really never tasted better even after taking an orange wedge!!) cooking oil and condensed milk, all kinds of indigenous herbs brewed to their strongest levels! Don't forget the jars and jars of dark molasses!

Now, I don't care... I love the trees, collect the fallen leaves, celebrate the flowers! Pick up green leaves and press them in books. When they have the hope to survive I pick some wild flowers... This is the equivalent to the Cape Fynbos Erica (heath) found in the Stockholm Archipelago


Seasoned Sensations
Can you
Smell it
The sweetest tastes
Of spring
Winters’ damp
Once again
Moved away
Summer
Reluctantly
Is on its way
To come and play

Can you
Taste it
Summer’s heat sensations
Spicy
Sticky
Sweet
Romping bare feet
Shade
More than a
Welcome treat

Can you
Catch it
Every season’s promise
Stripped
Bright
Honest
Despite our memories
Every year induces
A novice
Older
Wiser
Nothing but a
Promise

By Simone Beatrice Naik Noemdoe, March 30, 2011.