Honeysuckle on

Spring brings forth a most delectable array of tastes and smells, guaranteed to awaken the minds and hearts of even the most sluggish of lingering hibernators. Who among us can walk along a quiet evening, peripheral breezes of some distant thunderstorm wafting waves of honeysuckle perfume into her very breath, and not stop, eyes closed, breath deepened, and momentarily relive a lifetime of vernal memories? First love. Spring breeze. Great grandmother's quilt. Childhood back fence row. Soft cool. Pair of indigo buntings. Warm evening. Firefly mystery. Love resurrected. There is something about the honeysuckles. Was it growing up in the south, where the May air holds the strongest of perfumes- the honeysuckles that lift you up and out of your very chest and the southern magnolias that literally knock you dizzy? Or was it the shady back fence with my sister and the other neighbor kids- savoring drop after ridiculous drop of honeysuckle nectar- competing for the best technique of procuring the sweetest drop and not being able to stop eating them? A tiny drop of nectar on the tip of the tongue was more flavorful and alive than anything else we ate that day or that week at home or school, and we knew it. We knew it like we knew that we were going to be sent to bed before night was even done falling, and that we would have to whisper the last of the light away, lucky if sleepiness found either of us before we got checked on and had to hush mid whisper to expertly fein slumber. I used to stand out there at the back fence, between our yard and the Culps (the darling old couple whose house was dark and hot and always smelled like pickled peaches) and daydream about somehow collecting enough drops of nectar that I could take an entire sip. Or if I was really on a roll, I would fantasize that I could gather an entire cup-full of nectar. I would drink that and drown in its righteousness. These years later, I'm still on that same roll. I'm still trying to get that sip full or that cup full of honeysuckle nectar. May being arguably the busiest month of the year for a gardener, it is tricky to find the time to empty the blossoms of their precious nectar drop by drop, but somehow I can find the time to take a weekend and GET MY HONEYSUCKLE ON. This weekend found me lingering again at fencerows, dreaming of times other than now, and drinking in each spectacular and simple moment, adding them to my pool of honeysuckle memories. Read on...

1. I gathered a reasonable quantity of honeysuckle blossoms, carefully avoiding the poison ivy that often shares the same fencerows. 2. I cold soaked some of the blossoms in the refrigerator overnight in cream from the Mechos' cow. I also soaked some of the blossoms over night in some half and half (again from the neighborhood cow.) 3. With the majority of the blossoms, I cold infused them with spring water for 24 hours, then strained off. Saturday morning, I woke early and brewed my most favorite black tea- Barry's Gold Blend (strong Irish). What did I put in it? Honeysuckled half and half. Oh yeah. I think I'll have a second cup. Feeling pretty jazzed up, I set out to do some projects outside for the morning hours. The air was cool and fresh. The scent of honeysuckles and the buzz from the strong tea made me drunk but alert- a fine, fine combination. When I got a little hungry, I headed back to the house for guess what... A honeysuckle smoothy- maple yogurt, fresh strawberries, a banana, and some honeysuckle half and half. Oh yeah. Keep it coming. I decided to check on Friday night's project, opened the refrigerator and pulled out the bowl containing guess what- honeysuckle chocolate truffle base, which is honeysuckle infused cream incorporated with melted dark chocolate. Somebody help me- I'm getting carried away. Later on neighbor Moonie stopped by for a visit, and funny, but it was time for more tea with honeysuckle half and half, served out of a sweet and lovely assortment of tea gear given to me by various beloved- Austrian tea pot from Donna and Heidi, tiny yellow rose tea cup from Emily's grandmother... Tea with Moonie is always lovely, especially when accompanied by the viewing of some videos of the Daulton Quartet and other such male harmonizing awesomeness! Sunday it was time to pull out the big guns. I went over to Hot Springs and fetched my sister and brought her back to the house for a little honeysuckle mead making. Last year's sample gallon batch was pretty much the dream, so we decided to go a little bigger this year. Pulled out the five gallon carboy and dusted her off. Dissolved most of a gallon of local wildflower honey and handed Jenna the siphon. The day was perfect, a perfect May breeze with some perfect birds singing and perfect sunlight moving across the perfectly well-greened terrain. It was the right day to bottle and drink a toast to in a few months.

Come see me in about August, and we'll pour a glass and rededicate ourselves to never forgetting the beauty of this world we live in.