What to Do with Basil

Today was one of those rainy summer days when lighting is diminished and one derives a sense of well being from hearing the rolling boom of the far away thunder as rain raps heavily on the roof.

I had picked herbs before the rain started, large bunches of herbs, opal basil and bee balm and parsley and flowering mint, and hung them to dry in the kitchen. The whole house was filled with a spicy aroma dominated by notes of basil and accented with mint.

Rain kept falling on the overheated herbs, a welcome relief after the sharp sun rays of the morning. There was quiet in the kitchen enveloped by the fresh herb aromas, a peaceful moment out of time.

I read about what to do with basil, I read old recipes for potpourri mix and dream pillows, and fragrant sachets for closets and drawers, and spice jars filled to the brim with spicy fragrance. The book had the most beautiful pictures of old apothecary shops, with wooden tables and decorative copper pots polished to a shine, glass containers with glass lids and baskets full of herbs, all kinds of herbs, lavender, thyme, chamomile, basil, marjoram, dry or fresh, arranged on the table in a seemingly random fashion, with such a skillfully composed randomness meant to charm the soul.

I read about what to do with basil this rainy summer afte
oon, in the diminished light, as thunder boomed from a distance and raindrops fell heavily on the roof, and it was one of those moments that life offers unexpectedly to keep and cherish in one's memories.