Buzzing, bawking, crowing, calling, chickens running through the rusty magnolia leaves, green and green and green and brown and here we are.
I stand in the water up to my knees but cannot make myself plunge in.
I tell myself it's all right.
I tell myself whatever it takes.
I tell myself that the whole world can be found right here in this small, good place where the trees reach up to the sky.
My son calls me from Pennsylvania. He is having a wonderful time. He says he is the country mouse.
"Y'all have really tall buildings here! With statues on the top of them!"
He laughs. He plunged in. He did it and he loves it.
My boys are coming later. They hurl themselves into life. May they never stop doing that.
I need to do things before they get here.
Tiny little things that help me feel as if I am in control in this tiny little world.
It grows hotter, the crickets buzz faster, louder. A soprano sings over them. Frogs croak and I don't know why.
Everything in the world. Right here.
I tell myself that.
It may be true.