Oh, I can just picture the most spontaneous and naturally-living inclined amongst you disrobing, eager and proud to show us all. But I'm talking about blue tits, sparrows, magpies, and all the lovely birds that make winter days lighter and chirpier, keeping us company beyond our windows, while we half-freeze in our homes, courtesy of Mr Putin. (I'm aware that he does far, far worse things than increasing our energy bills. There should be a special place reserved for him and the likes of him in Hell. Just think of all the conversations or, more likely, the angry, unhinged, rambling monologues polluting the place. But I digress.)
Spring in the Netherlands, where I live, is a serious matter. People clean and spruce up their homes, perform a thorough check-up of their bikes, and tend to their gardens, no matter how small they are. Around March 20, the Keukenhof Park opens its gates for 7 wonderful weeks of wandering amid flowerbeds. With each passing year, the flowers – previously planted by the city councils and in private gardens – propagate and take roots with exuberant insouciance in every nook and cranny, in every tiny strip of soil, with a little help from their feathered friends, I guess, otherwise I can't explain, how the seed of what appears to be a yellow birch, ended up in my backyard in 2018, and is now an elegant 5-metre (16.40 ft) tree.
I'm so fond of my Betula alleghaniensis, a tree native to northeastern North America. It's my biggest gardening success so far, the one and only in a long history of failed attempts, probably because I just watched it grow, and didn't touch any of it with my murderous, definitely non-green fingers. The blue tits are also fond of her, and I find comfort in watching how the seasons pass by, in the ways that she changes. I hope the lovely birch will stay there for years and years to come, long after I'll be gone, while new generations of blue tits call each other to feed and play on her branches.
Amiche e amici italiani: siete caldamente incoraggiati a lasciare uno o più commenti nella nostra bella lingua, un invito che vale anche per tutti i miei articoli pubblicati in precedenza.
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Hey Portia, I loved this. Beautiful start to my day (well, not Putin, obvs).
I’m just replying in words today…no tits or buttocks. It will be a disappointment, I know, but I hope my words will suffice.
My favorite bakery near my house in the Yokohama suburbs has a few tables outdoors and as soon as my wife and I sit down to eat a few sparrows appear from nowhere waiting to get a few crumbs. The braver ones even land on our table.
La mia panetteria preferita vicino a casa mia, alla periferia di Yokohama, ha alcuni tavoli all'aperto e non appena io e mia moglie ci sediamo a mangiare, dal nulla compaiono alcuni passeri in attesa di rivcevere qualche briciola. I più coraggiosi atterrano direttamente sulla nostra tavola.