slices of lemon
When the sun breaks through the clouds this time of year, its light is like lemon juice– pale, sour, but enjoyable. Earlier today, Martin and I were at a diner having lunch, I guess a little celebration of the sun that shone a gold crescent in our window that morning. We had sandwiches, and water with slices of lemon that we sucked dry, our faces puckered.
The shop windows are full of Christmas displays now, but I have a few straggly plants in our window that I’m trying to nurse to life like spring. By some unspoken agreement, we stopped on the way back home for gelato; I had lemon and we both left our jackets open, and shivered and laughed as we threaded through the concrete sidwalk traffic.