Standing at my kitchen window I see the moon. The fresh-picked basil and spinach leaves are draining in the colander. The aroma of the sliced peaches (once frozen) grilling is sweetly heady and sensuous.
I pick up the velvety leaves with both hands and breathe in their earthiness. I am revived. I check the sizzling yellow fruit and turn back to the window. The moon is slipping behind the mountains beyond the lights of Las Vegas. I am struck by the size and color. It’s entrancing, as if a slice of peach has been slung at the sky and pierced the darkness.
My mind is peaceful as I watch the night change and the peaches change, and I change.
The salad bowl will boast a garden of green with golden moon shapes. I’ll sprinkle it with bleu cheese crumbles. They will be the stars in this celestial meal. I will eat it in the light of several tall pillar candles…with strains of Kenny G in the background.
It’s a moment of color and creation…and I must savor both...alone.