Grow

[catelin]

My hands are dirty. Sometimes digging in the dirt and planting things is the only way to feel better about everything. There's too much going on in my head and heart to make sense of these days, so I put agave and aloe into the ground around my little house. I planted prickly pear and cholla, Brazilian mallow and sunflowers. I scattered hollyhock and moonflower seeds across the back fence line. Tomorrow I'll begin piecing together all the cedar, transforming branches into trellises and garden gates. I forget sometimes, until I get outside, how much I love this place. It's not just my house; it's the land. I love my oaks and the grapevines. I love the way everything gets quiet at dusk and the deer come out to feed. I love the moon and the stars that move above me, reminding me that I am always going in circles and that's exactly as it should be. I love the sound of frogs in my pond and the old possum that finds its way to the cat's food every night. I remembered all these things today--the laundry list of what I love about here. No matter how much changes, I can't help but feel lucky to be home, to know that I have this place for me and my boys. My hands are dirty, but I feel cleaner than I have in months.

Comments

wearing dirt on our hands

[nakachi.livejournal.com]

if fortunate is to be full of fortune and luck is to be full of luck, then we are, indeed, lucky to be so fortunate. i've recently acquired my first yard since leaving the town i grew up in at 17. images of buttercups and freesia dance in my head. "i am a gardner" carries a lovely melody through my mind every time i remember it.

if we continue perpetuating this earth/self love [because you are a beautiful place.] we will never run out of it.