Wishful Thinking

Sigh. And yet, it was almost 100 degrees again today...

Night Noises

'Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?'    (Mary Oliver)

_________________________

My mother spends the next two weeks teaching in Cambodia.

I get a vicarious thrill from her sense adventure. Her sense of purpose. I'll catch myself, in the middle of the day, wondering about the view outside her window. The smell that hangs in the air, the chatter of places and people.  

An email from mom landed in my inbox on Sunday afternoon, the middle of the night in Phnom Penh. The night noises so loud she couldn't sleep.

Ever since my brain has been crowded with jungle noises and the sound of a rainstorm from the other side of the world.

Rainstorm

After months and months of drought. After acclimating to the scratch at my ankles of brown and dead grass blades. After the soil shrinks away from the sidewalk and the City has watering restrictions. 

It rained. Small, sharp droplets. A heavy, wet wind.  

I went outside. Sat down. Closed my eyes to have a more tactile sense of what was happening.

Summer

My skin beaded up with sweat as I stepped off the front porch this morning. 

No doubt about it: it’s summer. More specifically it’s that part of summer where you wake up with your mouth dry, your head pulsing. 

It’s that part of summer with brown patches of grass dotted along the quiet street. I noticed last night that I haven’t heard kids playing outside in more than a month. 

I imagine everyone inside their house. The a/c wheezing along, trying to keep up without relief. The blinds drawn, every light bulb off, the buzz of a box fan set on ‘high’. People resembling puddles from a dirty mop all over each living room couch. 

Oh, wait, maybe that’s just ~my~ house I’m imagining. In any case, if you’re looking for a couch to puddle up on or a spare popsicle for dinner feel free to stop by.

3-miles Outside

Jamaica North Trail (first legit trip with N)

15-miles Outside

MoPac East Bike Trail - My First Summer Ride

 

For The Picking

First Ripe Strawberry, 2012

With the mild weather the garden seems to have burst open with ripe fruit and vegetables. This was the first ripe strawberry the urban wildlife left behind for small human consumption. N was thrilled. Thrilled, I tell you. Thrilled.

When I lived in Colorado the soil was too sandy, my life too chaotic to grow things. I remember turning to M and supposing out loud that most good people have gardens. If you look at the people I know, fifteen years later, I'd say it's confirmed. Most good people have gardens, or wish they did.

We dropped the last of the seeds in the ground this weekend. Dill, cilantro, basil, carrots, cucumbers. The tomatoes get starts rather than seeds. We like tomatoes. We like tomatoes a lot.