Out in the Woods
Sometimes, I am struck by my selfishness and laziness. It's been weeks since I took Sandy to walk in the woods. It's something she loves, but I am heat-avoidant, and have been putting it off. Over spring and summer, there was a nice little rivulet at the foot of those steps. Sandy and I could hop over it, but it's much drier now and has disappeared. The Oak river that runs along this park is down 3-4 feet from its highpoint this summer, barely a current. It smelled green there today, the sky was overcast and it smelled of pine and some other pleasant foliage I've yet to identify. Most of the tropical flowers you see here don't have a scent. They get by on looks in Florida. The parks department has lined the path from the carpark into the woods with old seashells, all bleached white. I bet it would be beautiful to see at night, by moonlight. I carry her across these for most of the way, they hurt her paws.
Snowbirds are arriving, and it's oddly festive, here. It must be the collective sigh of relief of the shopkeepers, as their revenues begin to improve, combined with the northerner's happiness at fleeing icy cold. How I'd switch places with them, happily driving up the coast to Maine or Pennsylvania. It's probably gorgeous autumn still, but I hear some places have gotten very cold already. I don't really mind that. I don't like scraping my car windows or shoveling ice, and I do get bored with winter by mid-February, but that briskness would be delicious to me right now. I still feel like I'm on an extended vacation, here. Not at home, I'm in a Homewood Suites phase, it seems, not having roots, not craving them until it feels right. I like this apartment, but would leave it tomorrow, if I knew where to go. The past week has been sad and has included a tooth being pulled, an x-ray which showed why my thumbs hurt -- bone spurs, and the worst, sadly and tragically, was learning a friend and former neighbor had died. He had lived in his apartment 50 years and was being evicted because his landlord had sold the building. Life can be harsh.
So, I prepare for the week ahead, lessons and portfolios, and soft foods, thinking about what makes life worthwhile. The safety nets we all require to keep apprehension and despair at bay. At 61 I'm too young to retire, I need to work until 70, really, but every weekend, I'm driven to merely sit and reflect. Part of me worries this is unhealthy, but another part says, no, no, no. Just you sit there. Have some tea. If that's what my future consists of, and I don't like to think that way, I figure I'll just be content to observe how things change. Because that is all we can count on.
Rising and falling. Thank goodness for greenness. And little dog friends.
~Oldgirl
So, I prepare for the week ahead, lessons and portfolios, and soft foods, thinking about what makes life worthwhile. The safety nets we all require to keep apprehension and despair at bay. At 61 I'm too young to retire, I need to work until 70, really, but every weekend, I'm driven to merely sit and reflect. Part of me worries this is unhealthy, but another part says, no, no, no. Just you sit there. Have some tea. If that's what my future consists of, and I don't like to think that way, I figure I'll just be content to observe how things change. Because that is all we can count on.
Rising and falling. Thank goodness for greenness. And little dog friends.
~Oldgirl
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