No Fear
I’m lucky. My drug of choice when I’m down, is yard work. I felt funky the last week or so, laid low by memories of a departed wife and old camping trips. But there sat my yard in a modest amount of disrepair, waiting like a patient child for its parent to realize it was there and good for a cuddle. So, I gave it one. Dug weeds, mowed, trimmed edges, made plans, made a list, and started crossing things off. Therapeutic to the max.
I feel much better now thank you. It also helped that I got out this past Sunday and Monday to see friends and get hugs there. Garden hugs are good for sure, but people hugs are good, too, especially when combined with words of consolation. And now I feel nearly right as rain, which it is supposed to do a bit today and has done so over the last several days. The gardens are lush and plush and there’s new growth on the young oaks, the Lacy’s and the Chinquapin and the Burr.
There’s a lot to look at in the yard and it’s close at hand and it’s a nice way to shrink the universe to a manageable size. And now we’ll make our way together into summer and then to fall. It should be a pleasant trip all in all. And I really understand sometimes why hermits do what they do because when it’s just you and the world you can reach out and touch, it feels safe, and the mind can wander unhindered wherever it wants to go with no fear of rejection or loss.