With Spring officially over, and in the record books as one of our wettest ever, we can finally turn our anticipatory eyes, and taste buds, to the scions of long light and delicious heat. Look around. Those tentative green shoots we first saw, standing on wobbly legs – impossibly – to challenge a fearsome winter, have limbs like Highlanders now, thick and hairy. They sprouted. They fruited. They conquered. Kudos to our early food.
But I am thinking about the march of food. I am thinking about red now. My mind is giddy, in fact, with thoughts of biting into red. Strawberries. Rhubarb. Raspberries. Cherries. And teasingly, tomatoes and beets. I stand beside the garden bed as one standing beside the Via Appia. Jubilant. Ave ruber!
The triumphant colour of pure sun has returned victorious.