Finding Scent in this World

Wisteria in my Neighborhood

Everyone I talked to this morning,  family and friends,  myself and my partner included stayed home all day yesterday.  Was it the weather. An overcast numbing grey day. Or the mood that matched the weather?

Yesterday, I watched pieces of a French movie and struggled through a couple of chapters of an Agatha Christie mystery which on a "normal" day off I can lose myself in.

My attention span and thinking outside of the box is both escaping me. I can only see and deal with what is front of me. Washing a dirty dish. Making a simple sandwich. Answering a text from a worried friend. Checking my dwindling bank account balance. 

This morning,  finally,  I roused myself to get up out of bed, ignore the obsession of checking the news and go out and get out of my fixed state.

The first thing, I did, was touch the wisteria tree, the  blooms fresh from the morning mist. My next door neighbor planted earlier this year. I pushed my face into the cluster of lilac blossoms inhaling the scent dreaming of walks through Victorian gardens, a book in hand, waiting for friends to arrive, conversations,  afternoon tea with sugar and dainty sandwiches. Not that I want to live that life. Only escaping into it for an hour or so.

I walked sidewalks.  Passing by a half dozen scattered people walking their dogs, dogs walking them, or dragging their dogs by harness behind them.

I found a running creek and watched the sparrows dig in the dirt. I noted the BlackBerry bushes, vibrant green winding through tree and branch to the moving water.

I found a trail. Open. With fresh bark outlining a path up through oak trees into the green hills. I walked part way and turned back, wanting to savor the rest of the way with my partner later.

How I relish the simple things. How I resist with all my body, might and mind to figure out the future. 

No comments:

Post a Comment