Bottling Sunlight

This afternoon, I learned how to keep a day alive. Tomatoes, vinegar, and a rhythm as old as patience. We filled jars until the counter glowed — the color of warmth, the taste of time.

The chef said pickling isn’t about saving food, it’s about saving a feeling. I believed him. Months from now, when I open these jars, I’ll remember this moment exactly — the smell of rosemary, the hum of jazz, the laughter echoing in the glass.

Some flavors fade. Others keep you company.