Living in the Gap
Piecing together a week….May 26 –June 1
Flower Obsession – Black eyed Susans and coneflowers AND on sale…I grab three of each; no matter I already have both planted and have no idea where I’m going to fit these in my gardens. For a fleeting moment I realize I have a problem, a flower garden obsession. (Let it be noted I found a place for them. I pulled all of my calla lilies so now I have room for even more!)
Weeding – Knees pressed into the grass, I lean over stones to dig in the dirt, pulling weeds and unwanted volunteers. As I make my way from section to section and bed to bed, the creative mode hits…words push their way in my head for a project I’d cast away a few months ago. I jump up, pull off the gloves and knock the dirt loose from my knees as I run in the house and scribble in a notebook. I do this at least five more times. I must make a choice between writing and gardening. I choose gardening. Why does inspiration hit me when I’m busy doing something else?
The last stitch – With all the final details touched up on my latest art quilt, I had only to back, bind, and border it. I lay it out, pin, and proceed to sew. Home stretch….brrrrrrmmmmmm…ah, the moment of cutting the threads of the ties that bind it to the machine……FINISHED!
Poem that never came – I wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the visual of a purple flower and words floating through my head. A voice is saying “best poem yet” …I am straining and swaying to lift my head, to catch the words escaping me. I pull bits and pieces from the air and roll over and write them on the notepad on the bedside table as I struggle to make sense of them. I fail to see how it can EVER become a poem. I have a visual and fragments I can’t form into anything coherent. Finally I drift off…
Sitting outside in the dark – The breeze picks up the scent of grilling still fresh in the air and tussles it about. Cold drinks refresh tired bodies that sink into the chairs. Music fills the yard and lifts our tired souls. Clouds dance just beyond the tops of the pines.
Mallards – Teal shining in the sun, they waddle across the yard. They slide, scoot, and wallow until they come to a comfortable rest. One pecks about his tail feathers while the other sits pensively with a strand of dried grass strewn through his beak. Squirrels scatter about and ducks move on.
Furniture hunting – we plop onto the largest sofa we’ve ever seen. We sink into the softness and hit the levers which recline us. We look at each other and smile….Nice! Price is right. Style is perfect. We measure….WAY TOO LARGE! We go home empty handed….
Bumble bee – He flies about diving beneath the seat of the picnic table. He buzzes over our heads and through variegated vinca only to return to the table. He dances over clover and flowers and still he comes back. We look beneath the table…there was a hole (possibly his home) now sealed with a coat of paint. Like a long-gone hobo returning home to see what’s left, the bumblebee flies off and returns to the same corner of the table over and over again.
Almost a morning mishap – As I open the door a female cardinal swoops low and flutters up the length of the open door. As she reaches the top she turns like an old trick airplane, and back into the sky she heads.
The rain continues to gently fall, watering my soul. I pull myself inside my skin…the world is quiet except for the drip drip drip of raindrops hitting the roof and cobblestone. Leaves of the Rose of Sharon glisten beneath tiny pools of water.