Wisteria

I love to travel.  Be they big vacations, little vacations, long road trips, short road trips to nowhere in

particular (something that my family always called "Goin' round Robin Hood's Barn"), work conferences- my inner sense of wanderlust likes to be nurtured.  I'm lucky enough to be married to someone who enjoys travelling as much as I do, who craves the open road and devours the Rand McNally Road Atlas like pulp fiction.  Every once in a while though I like to travel by myself, soaking in new sights and experiences, relishing in the sweet silence of my own company.  In a life where this doesn't occur very often, I've learned to embrace it when does come.



Wisteria at the Hotel Albuquerque in Old Town

 The third week of April found me in Albuquerque for a work conference, at a lovely hotel, in a room with a view.  The weather was gorgeous, the hotel grounds full and fragrant with the promise of summer, and the many incarnations of red chiles tempting my nostrils and satiating my taste buds.  I arrived early in the morning and with a few hours to kill before my first conference session I took to exploring the hotel gardens.  The courtyard area was defined by beds of sage, rosemary, and desert plants with names that I didn't recognize.  I sat for a few minutes in one of the rocking chairs, basking in the cool morning light, thankful to be out of my basement office for a few days.  And then I saw it.  Almost out of view, hiding by the corner of the back parking lot-the most amazing wisteria tree.  I'd never seen anything quite like it: full fuchsia blooms dangling heavily under the weight of their beauty. 

Smiling to myself as I snapped up picture after picture on my phone, I couldn't help but think of the intoxicating power of the words "wisteria and sunshine."  At the start of one of my favorite movies, Enchanted April, two British women in post-WWI London are drawn together after reading a newspaper advertisement promising "wisteria and sunshine" at an Italian villa.  The lure of these simple words force them to make uncomfortable decisions about their lives; lives that have been defined by dreary, unrelenting charity work and troubled, unhappy marriages.  They embark on a journey of self-discovery and friendship, eradicating the pervasive loneliness of their former lives through a month long stay at a castle on the coast of Portofino, Italy.  It's a quiet, gentle little story of companionship, redemption, and love, all set in a stunningly sensuous location.  And it's got beautiful period clothes out the wazoo.  Trust me, take the afternoon off, pour yourself a glass (or two) of pinot grigio, and watch it. 



Film Still from Enchanted April  (1992) via Beauty Dart

Sometimes a few simple words have power to nourish our souls when we're weary, other times it's the sight of singularly gorgeous tree, gently swaying in the cool morning air.