A Field Brew

A dry terracotta saucer caught my attention beneath a potted dwarf olive. Down by the lower rim, rainwater had evaporated, leaving behind a clean, shadowed alcove. I retrieved three brittle sprigs of sun-dried rosemary from the planter edge and placed them inside a discarded metal bottle cap found wedged in the cedar slats. Pouring a few clear droplets saved from a morning leaf surface, I let the herb steep under the warm midday sun. The aroma deepened into something dark and astringent. Simple sustenance, secured entirely from the immediate terrain.