O’ but the muse has been lost.  Naught of consequence stirs yet in the mind.  The picture remains unpainted. The keening lament of the masses has been wrenched out, but fear not.  In time, the bargain will be met, the promise fulfilled, and life’s breath will flow into the imagination once more, bringing descriptive illumination in it’s wake

Slashes of golden sunlight stream through the branches of old oak trees, winking, sparkling, straight as an arrow, bringing bits of color to the lush green foliage beneath.  From the shade at the edge of the grove, across the open meadow of waist high grass and tar weed, home can be seen, and the scent of freshly baking bread mixed with sawdust from the yard.  The promise of apple cider, honeyed bread, pears, and pan seared pork cutlets dry rubbed with cumin and turmeric, awaits at days end

Nothing is better than a still warm, freshly baked cinnamon roll, or sugar glazed blueberry or lemon poppy seed muffin in the morning. Well, maybe there is, but those are sure hard to beat. The color of freshly cut amethyst competes for attention with the aromas of warm honey, strawberry jam, ripe blackberries, and boysenberry syrup. Pairs perfectly with succulent pit roasted pork drowning in raspberry chipotle reduction sauce, followed by strawberry shortcake, vanilla bean ice cream, and honey drizzled fruit for dessert.

Heads turn in unison at the sound of silver spurs on heavy heels and the loud creak of the swinging doors of the saloon. The silhouette removes his hands. The doors crack back into place. He caresses his mustache around a grizzly gash of a mouth, drops his cigar on the floor, and grinds the remaining embers and tobacco out with his boot. Añejo Tequila. No, the whole bottle, it is as pungent as black truffle, and sweet as honeysuckle on the vine. White pepper. Hibiscus. Cue the music; rasp rattlesnake, cry hawk that sees its prey.

In the elegant verbiage of the winemaker himself, it is like candy in a glass.  What more can be said than toasted marshmallow, crème brule, Grand Marnier, Drambuie, figs, Almond Rocha, Heath Bar, dried apricot, and chocolate covered coffee beans

Imagine diving headlong into an Ocean Spray commercial, slurping cranberry juice through a boba sized straw, soaking up the sun and splashing around while trading barbed jests with the wader-clad guys.  Cruise on down to Joco’s for the best filet mignon this side of the Rio Grande, cooked to perfection over a red oak fire with pickled carrots and cauliflower on the side.  Or, for those with a more adventurous streak, seek out herbed and spiced Peruvian potatoes, Choclo corn with a slab of salty white cheese, and Manzanita seared rosemary lamb skewers

Light as the softest brush of the lips, a kiss born upon the winds, across the undulating, seemingly endless, sands, guided by the stars on a moonless night. Magic stirs the fibers of life. A desert flower blooms, blood orange. Proclaimed as belonging to the dominion of Kings. Hints of jasmine green tea, sagebrush smoke, fennel encrusted quail, and lemongrass

A soft dew clings to the air, the smell of a diesel engine as it brings warmth to the morning along with its California cackle. The sun just crests the horizon, rays of pale gold sunlight brushing fields of grain and barley, bringing light and life to the day. The promise of hard work, of grit and earth beneath the fingers, talcum, gypsum, trail riding the coastal bluffs, a picnic on the green grass, dandelions, sweet pear marmalade, briny olives, stone fruit, tart apple, and toasted walnuts

Ominous, lurking in the opaque red purple dark.  Like a satiated lion, having gorged itself after the kill, this Syrah screams Umami, Red Dragon, spicy tuna sushi, soy glazed pork sliders, blackberries, vanilla bean, orange leaf, and 80% cocoa bitter dark chocolate. Better than a hot toddy on a cold night, wassail, mulled cider, cinnamon, clove, black currant, and pumpkin pie.  An Asian pear cleanses the palate, with Cambozola cheese to pair.

Red dress at the end of the bar, jazz baby, ask me to dance, raspberry martini in her hand, the heady feeling that the whole night is still ahead. Petrified; walk up. Brown sugar, chocolate, dried fruit compote on her breath, overripe, smells like Christmas. Don’t be fooled, danger lurks, wrapped in winter furs, like Aquavit, maple syrup, royal raisins, treacle, scrape the tongue, too late, you’re in too deep