Moving, moving, I have kept moving today. From tasks to walk to more tasks. Mostly outside, my spirit has been restless, not exactly filled with anxiety but more a sense of fretful discomfort.
Nothing I have done today has amounted to anything at all for this world and yet, I am not sure that is my job at all. Such a sense of power, we humans have! We can change the world!
Well, I fucking can't.
Here. I weeded this bed in which I planted the ferns, dug up from the woods and brought back, a few at a time from walks. I planted the camellias and the Ash Magnolia which is about to bloom.
The sun is going down. The light is fantastic.
Time to cook again.
I can't either, Mary. I can't even clean my craft room. I wish you were here cooking for me because I'd eat whatever you made! And I'd be grateful!
ReplyDeleteYou are exactly right, more than enough, there in your realm.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful day here. We dug in the dirt too. My love went for a massage.
ReplyDeleteI weeded dandelions today. Many, many dandelions. I thought of you while I was doing it and sent a prayer your way.
ReplyDeleteI love the word Magnolia, and digging, and dirt and flowers and your writing.
ReplyDeleteit's beautiful. I miss my old city house sometimes with it's established greenery. so much lawn here, so much space to fill.
ReplyDeleteI don't know how you manage all the work. I'd have to have a micro-wave hot pack SUIT.
ReplyDelete