Last night I lay in bed with the waning Strawberry moon light illuminates my room and the heady scent of honeysuckle carried in on the cool breeze. A sweet relief from last week’s heatwave. It felt like a little luxury, this moment. I thought about how the month was held between two full moons. I wrote about the Blue Moon and a night in Florence over 20 years ago.
The roses came and went faster than usual this year. One week they were everywhere… climbing the stone walls, spilling over garden gates, filling the house and then the heat arrived and they were struggling to keep going. I kept cutting them anyway, bringing in the last of them even as the petals dropped, because I wasn’t ready to let go.
This is the shape of summer at the farmhouse: brief, almost violent beauty, followed by the long golden stretch of July when everything slows down and the light lasts until nearly ten. I’ve been trying to pay attention. To notice what I notice. Below is what stayed with me throughout the month of June.
A new Instagram project documenting my last year in the farmhouse, what I'm dreaming about once Fefe leaves for school, the word faeloria, three meals I can't choose between, go-to summer recipes, my summer can’t-live-without product and the question I've been asking everyone at dinner.
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