Today I ate lunch quietly by myself. I had the time to eat slowly. This somehow led me to pay attention. I watched myself crack and carefully peel the egg. The white had a familiar, cool taste and feel in my mouth that contrasted with the taste of the yolk, dry in its yellow and greenish grey color.
I didn't cut the peach into slices, but just bit into it. It was juicy with a taste that try to recall through the fall and winter. The blood red of the pit stained the peach's flesh. These were the colors of summer.
How often do we sit down at lavish, fancy meals and then chat away, check our phones or ipads and have no sense of the pleasures of what we've just eaten?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment