Slow Start

Good morning, good morning. Well, the weather has turned and it seems we’re done with summer already in the Northwest. The clouds have rolled in and gone are the sunny, clear, hot days. I’m feeling fortunate that I finished some gardening while it was nice. Being a novice and all, I was able to enjoy my first foray into digging around in the dirt in sunny sunny weather, moving plants from one spot to the next, trying an orange beauty next to a pineapple mint. Even though the instructions said “full sun”, I put it in “partial” & hoped for the best. (There’s no such thing as full sun in these woods.) It’s cloudy days and shade for you, verbena, if you’re fortunate enough to come home with me. In the last week I’ve moved nearly a ton of rocks and gathered driftwood from the beach, sculpting the land into beautiful, welcoming grounds. I believe I’m addicted. The cats too were enchanted by the weather in the last few weeks, sprinting back and forth from one patch of grass to the next, chasing each other, and leaving gifts of dead vermin on the path.

Today we all sit inside the studio, pouting at the early change in season. They cry, looking up at me, as if I could stop the rain. “It’s not my fault,” I say. I walk to the window with the little one and contemplate the gray, gray sky. Will I still manage to ride my bike to work? It’s hard to keep good habits when even the sun is hiding. Maybe, I think, I’ll just go back to bed.