The chopping board is one of those plastic sorts, green and proudly bright. Agains the background of the tile it is a welcome splash of pop-art, an invitation to a more heroic comic-book life.
Upon the chopping board are flecks of coriander leaf, bright green on a calming brown. They are scattered much the same of autumnal leaves yet speak of springtime in their gaiety.
In the strengthening light of the day, the scores upon the chopping board are their own story, each written by the sharp edge of a blade. They are tales of our family, of our sorrows and triumphs, all of it etched in our hearts and memories as much as upon the wood.
The chopping board had once been a scaffolding plank, yet resurfaced and repurposed with love. It bore testimony to the beauty age can bring, and added a touch of warmth to the kitchen.
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