The Loop
It’s gonna be a day. Got to go. Got to mow. Got to edge. Got to trim. Going to make the fuzzy edges sharp. It will be me and power tools. The big mower. The line trimmer. Maybe a sharp cutting tool or two. We’ve had no rain to speak of but the weeds, are like, don’t worry we’ve got this, and here come the big thistles, because somewhere deep down in the ground there’s a drop of moisture. Yeah, for life.
We’re watering the trees at night out at the drip lines and sometimes close to the root balls. We love our trees and they’re responding and later today I’ll probably take down the old weather station that makes a squeaky noise when the branches of the Eves Necklace rub against it. It feels like she wants to grow that way, and that little squeak is a message to me to clear a path, and who am I to deny Mother Eve’s namesake? No one.
And then, when it’s all said and done, I’ll sit back with a cool drink of water, and think, damn, this looks good. But secretly, I’ll know it’s a repetition thing, and once you start cutting you have to keep cutting because things like to grow and go, and lord help us if the rains come, because then it will be like a high school party that got out of control, and yours truly will be hard pressed to keep up, but I’ll try because, I like to keep the fuzzy edges sharp.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale