It is full-on spring and the wisteria buds are swelling, even as the azaleas burst and the camellias continue to bud and bloom. I have never seen the tea olive so full of blossom and my yard is filled with its perfume, a bit like an apricot, a little like a lemon, completely its own and perfect.
On my walk I noticed these things-
The little pond, seen through the yellow jessamine.
The lavender violets where they always bloom so profusely on the side of one of the roads I take.
This time change is kicking my ass and I've only got one load of clothes on the line. I am moving slowly today and filled with a completely illogical sadness. Post wedding let-down? Post Lon and Lis let-down? Who knows? I finished reading the little Matt Haig book last night, "Reasons To Stay Alive" and it has helped me to simply accept these feelings. The weight of the sense of never being good enough, of not deserving in any way these many, many blessing-beauties of my daily life. It is not that I am not aware of them, not mindful of them. It is almost as if I am hyper aware of them and deeply afraid that I no more deserve them than I deserve the perfectly healthy and beautiful grandchildren I have and love so much. Or the love of the good man I have. Or of the amazing family I have, all of us so different, all of us so respectful and loving of each other.
Well. These are simply feelings and in my true soul I do know that I did not merely wake up one morning and found all of these things on my doorstep but that in truth, my dream and work has shaped them. Somewhat.
When we went to Wakulla Springs a few weeks ago with Tearful and Yolie and Kaleb, I was reminded once again of how beautiful the native places of Florida are and I thought of Dog Island and how incredibly lucky I am to be one of the very few people to have access to it and how I have allowed ghosts both of my own making and the ones living there on their own to color my joy in being there. And a small yearning grew in me to go back and I think that Mr. Moon and I will go out there this week for a few days.
I think of how on days like this the sun there warms the trees and everything smells like pine and bay and Gulf. Of how the Ospreys who are no doubt nesting, cry their shrill cry as they wing over the water to find food for their young and themselves. Of how the water sounds as it laps the shore and how the wind sounds as it sings through dunes. Of the complete lack of highway sound, of people sound. Of how sweet it is to play cards on the porch, to take long, lazy naps. To spend hours and hours reading.
And then I think of leaving my safe place here and my chickens and my cats and my garden and it feels as if I have no right to abandon them all. As if I alone am responsible for everything for every minute. And I think of how much work it is to get there, carrying food and water and drink and it's been so long since we've been there that surely everything has gone bad and the idea of shopping for all of that makes me so tired.
But I'm tired anyway so...so what?
And in all reality, my husband and I need to get away together and there is no place more certain to provide nothing but solitude in the world.
A hawk just screamed through my back yard. They too, are nesting, and must feed their young. The sheets are blowing on the line, giant blue prayer flags to the gods of sleep. Fat bumble bees drift through the azaleas and Mr. Moon reports having seen the bluebirds back again. The blackbird shrills, the cardinals chipchirp, the breeze blows through the magnolia trees.
Matt Haig points out that those who feel deeply are the ones who suffer from depression and anxiety. This is a blessing and it is a curse but I think the most important thing to remember is that we are who we are and we must take one with the other and although there is no choice in that, we can use the feelings, both the high and the low to write, to paint, to be compassionate, to be tender of the feelings of others.
Well, that's enough. More clothes are ready to hang on the line. The hen house needs some serious attention. And today, at least, I am the one here responsible for doing those things as well as watching the way the clouds blow across the blue sky, the way the house feels with the breezes washing through it, the way it is perfect in all ways in which things here on earth can be.