During the month of August, I’m participating in the Writer’s Tarot Challenge.
Day 3: The Star Card + something that inspires you
On this night in the desert where monsoon clouds have come to mingle in between twinkling stars, the scent of a slowly burning cinnamon and apple candle curls around me, taking me back to the tiny kitchen of my childhood. I’m all abundle in my cozy autumn sweater, beating, rolling, and cutting homemade dough with my mother. The green granny-smiths are cut in wedges and soaked in cinnamon glaze before being added to the dough-lined pie dish. When the pie is nearly ready for baking, I warm my hands near the oven, unaware of the significance of making something wonderful from scratch with my mom. For seven-year-old me it’s the smell I’m about to smell, the taste I’m about to taste, that occupies my mind. That I’ve had a part in bringing this smell and taste into the world, to the comfort and delight of me and my family, escapes me till much later.