As I was writing this recipe on a hot afternoon, the spirited singing of cicadas distracted me. 

There’s poetry in the cicada songs in the hot hours of summer days.
The only noise pollution my ears give thanks to.
I used to hear it every other afternoon when I was still residing in Portsdown.
You can hear their powerful, almost relentless sound when you stand under the tree, and if you
concentrate hard enough, you feel as though you are now standing alone in the middle of a
massive forest, surrendering yourself to the universe.

It’s July and pretty much without my consent, this year travelled halfway with accelerated speed.
We are living into a future we can no longer control or predict. 
Here, we no longer want to be the first. Here, we yearn to be the last, to do as little as we can. 
We want to turn hectic days into restful ones where we watch the magnificent sunset turn into night.

GIVE THINGS TIME, WATCH THE WIND AND LISTEN TO YOURSELF. X

POACHED ASPARAGUS WITH SHAVED EGGS
Serves 4 as a side