The asparagus is one of those plants that can go unnoticed perfectly. Not very photogenic, their leaves are so delicate that they must JOINING much to them to capture its texture. They are also typical of window plants of people together to give that a colonial aspidistra (some would say something decadent) to the houses.
But to me, I like asparagus for two things: one is cooking and vital, and the other is more poetic.
The cuisine: the green shoots of asparagus are born in spring have all the vital energy of the plant in their apices. Plant hormones that encourage the cells to reproduce are all concentrated in the stem powerful, dark green, earthy. And the other day we made a scrambled egg and garlic. And diuretics are exhilarating, cleansing toxins from our body.
Poetics: Once, years ago, was walking through a garden at dusk. Suddenly, I noticed a strong smell, a scent deeply, as elegant and ancient thing: I was right not to see what flowers came from. I went deeper into a corner where the smell was stronger, and there was the asparagus in flower, a tiny flowers, but with a powerful perfume, a scent of old house shaded. And this perfume is also on the farm, because last year I could smell a summer evening, and then looked through the grass in the beds by clearing, and found again, the asparagus, giving smell the sunset.
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