As I watch the foam, reach the edge of my cup, a result of the steam produced by the machine, I prepare water for my plants. They are quiet tenants that live in and adorn the sun room. They are silent witnesses to how the seasons come and go. A year ago, they undoubtedly witnessed when a fox or a badger targeted a nest of those wild hens.

As I take a sip of my espresso, I enter the room that is bathed in sunshine. The wide windows let in the sun, which today doesn’t shy away. This Scottish sun often gets intimidated by the clouds and thus, with no hesitation, decides not to shine. But this day is not the occasion.

Similar to a greenhouse, the place gradually resembles a sunny day with no necessity for heating. The emerald green glow of the foliage fills my eyes and gives me a false sense of spring. Without a doubt, there are no blossoms, but I am confident they will arrive. Those days when the Christmas cactus flowers adorned the coldest months of winter now remain only in a few withered flowers near the pots. From November to February, its flowers, with tones of bright pink, filled the room with a blend of winter nostalgia and spring colors.

I must tell you that some of these tenants are foreigners, migrants who make this land their home, just like me. Some travel from Cadaqués, others from Portimão, and even from Dijon. What adventures and how grateful they are, continuing to adapt over time to the variable bright days!

As I water the shrubs, they show a thankful reaction. The rosemary, the lavender, all those aromas emerge as I pass, as if they were thanking me for the Sunday sip of water. In the distance, the woodland seems to await me. Which type of beverage would you bring with you on this walk? I know that the sunlight creates an invitation that I cannot turn down, although I also understand that the day in the forest will be cold. I already have in mind what flavor the tea I will take with me. Not to mention the newly baked bread ready for me to assemble a tasty sandwich.

The bread, golden and crunchy on the outside, exhales a tempting perfume that draws me to the kitchen. My fingers can hardly resist the temptation to tear off a piece, but I restrain myself, knowing the flavor will be even better when entirely cold. With a smile on my face, I cut a generous slice and spread it with butter, enjoying the ritual that accompanies every Sunday morning. And as I savor the hot and crispy bread, I am confident it will flawlessly complement my next cup of coffee.

Sunroom

Last modified on 2024-02-25