It’s mid-June, and it’s raining. I’ve developed an obsession for rhubarb. I’ve been buying rhubarb from grocery stores in town and biking home on a borrowed bike with rhubarb stalks sticking out of the basket. I make rhubarb and strawberry sauce. The freezer is full. Luckily, I don’t have to share it with anyone anymore. All my roommates moved away. I’m on my own for the summer.
I’m sure there’s something in rhubarb that I have a deficiency in. Why else would I crave it so? This emptiness.
It’s raining, and the air is pregnant with the smells of life. Summer solstice is in a couple of days, and the wet makes the shades of green so deep, so rich, so all-consuming and cleansing. Walking home from work through the oak tree grove is like diving into, being submerged. Breathing gets easy.
Almost as green as in the rainforest. Let’s get back to Sapo…
Katja Malmborg 