A Beginning

If I were eating smoked salmon and goat cheese at home right now, it would taste like a jubilant wild song, unedited conversation, a wide open room with flowers and lots of bright noises just beyond the edge.
If I were eating the same meal at the beach it would taste like a breath of immensity, blue as far as blue can be, a bit of earth mixed with the color yellow. I’d turn my head often, brush hair away from my face, searching out the source of each immense sound.
If I were eating such delights on my door step, home alone on a hot summer afternoon it would taste rich and almost too big, even heavy, like quiet knowing, slow speaking, nearly missing the turn to Jenny’s house on a long windy road.
In this cafe they taste like gentleness, a peaceful mind, a smile, sweet echos of happiness, gratitude, walking among fragrant purple blooms, stooping to observe their gifts.