I watched the moon setting as I walked this local trail this morning. Lovely. It’s not quite a full moon, but as I drove to the trailhead. it was plump and luminous, a beautiful pearl in the night sky.
I snap a picture from the parking lot.
The moon began to turn a ruddy antique gold sort of hue as it sunk lower on the horizon, still enough to light the way. I cross the parking lot pleased to start down the path in a westerly direction. I am enjoying watching the moon set, over the vineyards, and through the trees.
I walked with my thoughts, watching the moon, listening to the birds singing unseen in the trees and shrubs along the path. Another work day, but all that begins later and I don’t think much about it as I walk. This is not that moment. I’m also not thinking about the world, nor mired in the crap going on beyond this moment on this trail. It’s a pleasant morning and I embrace the calm, the joy, and the simplicity of this bit of “now” right here.
When I get to my halfway point I sit down to write a bit. I choose a spot that faces east and watch daybreak becoming dawn. My head is kind of stuffy; Spring allergies. I remind myself to pick up more allergy medicine at the drugstore later, and wonder if the price will have gone up? I let that go and grin happily, noticing a plump robin near my feet, ignoring me while he checks out the surroundings looking for something tasty. Then I shift uncomfortably. Arthritis pain. I let that go too, while I can, and pull myself back to other aspects of here and now. The fragrant Spring air is slightly chilly but not unpleasant.
My Traveling Partner pings me a loving greeting and I am reminded of the passing of time. It’s s new day. Stuff to do. Other moments to live and enjoy. Looks like it’s time to begin again. I finish my writing and brush some moss off my jeans as I stand and turn back on the trail.
I’m sitting at the halfway point on my walk around the marsh on a Spring morning, early. The air is deliciously fragrant with Spring flowers after a gentle rain during the wee hours. The trail is damp, but not muddy. The sky is gray, but there’s a hint of sunrise on the eastern horizon. There are geese overhead calling to each other as they fly by.
An early start on a new day.
I woke feeling rested and clear-headed this morning, if a bit earlier than planned. It doesn’t matter, really. It’s a lovely morning out on the marsh. Flowers blooming everywhere, trees and shrubs mostly, other flowers will bloom later.
I notice I’m suddenly feeling “froggy” and congested. My nose is simultaneously stuffed up and beginning to run like crazy. I scramble for the travel pack of tissues I had shoved into my pocket “just in case”. The sneezing hits me next. Damn it. An allergy attack? Probably. It’s Spring, and while I am quite fortunate that I don’t have the serious problem with allergies that my mother had, nor those of any of my partners, I do have one or two. Bee stings. Cotton wood trees. And whatever the fuck is blooming right now, apparently, that wasn’t blooming yesterday! I would laugh, but I’m pretty busy trying to breathe for several minutes while I blow my nose, clear my throat, and take a Benadryl. I remind myself to start taking Claritin each morning; it’s that time of year. I remind myself to begin making a point to keep my bee sting kit close by, always, too.
Being prepared matters quite a lot. My symptoms quickly ease, and I’m comfortably enjoying the morning again. Indications of Spring are all around. I especially enjoy the green haze creeping over every branch, as tender young leaves begin to unfold. It’s a beautiful time and it hints at renewal and new beginnings. For the moment I forget about pain (and allergies), and all the housekeeping stuff on my to do list, and instead I simply enjoy the moment, and the Spring. I think about my garden, and about maybe baking some cookies later. Simple pleasures. Nice morning for it.
I’m grateful that I began the day prepared. I’m grateful that I’ve become more skilled at self-care over time. I’m grateful for the awareness that brings Spring into focus, and that allows me to recognize needs that must be addressed promptly without panic. I’m grateful for this beautiful dawn, and this lovely moment, and this chance to begin again.
Even in springtime, the clock is ticking.
I get to my feet, and brush bits of leaves and moss from my jeans, before continuing down the trail. My journey is my destination, this morning, and it is enough.
I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead, but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).
…Took me awhile to let it go…
I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.
…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…
I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).
…We’re each having our own experience…
When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change, and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)
…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…
Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.
…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…
Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.
I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.
I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.
I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.
Springtime is flowers, morning coffees on lazy Saturdays, sunny mornings that still feel too chilly to take my coffee out to the deck… and seasonal allergies. Yeesh. These fragile meat suits we wrap ourselves in to tackle this mortal lifetime are annoyingly prone to stuffy heads and sneezes.
The pollen count is high. Trees are blooming. My Traveling Partner’s Spring allergies are going absolutely nuts. Mine are not so bad, but they crop up in Spring. There’s some particular tree… I’m not sure which one. It isn’t all of them, and it’s a brief period in the season, for me. I know other people whose seasonal allergies associated with pollen are all Spring, all of the summer, and right into autumn when the last of blooming things gets done with blooming. My mother didn’t care for flowers, much, her allergies were pretty bad. I could – for most of my life – bury my face in flowers loaded with Spring pollen and have no reaction other than pure delight in their fragrance. That’s less true now, than it was then, but my allergies are nothing like his. As I said… there’s a particular tree. It happens to grow plentifully in our community here… whatever it is. LOL
Blue skies and flowers; it’s Spring.
I’m not really bitching about my allergies. They’re not that bad. Maybe you’ve got it much worse? If so, it may dull the shine of Spring for you, and if so, you have my sympathy, and my well-wishes: I hope you find relief. Allergies suck. If you’re among the ludicrously robust and strong-of-constitution, be kind to those who suffer. Just saying, the suffering is very real.
I see the sunny day beyond the neighbor’s fence. There are two pear trees and a cherry tree in my neighbor’s yard. They’re blooming. It’s quite lovely. There is so much I love about Spring. I’ve been watching a lot of gardening content on YouTube. By far my favorite gardening content, at least right now, is from a UK gardener named Huw Richards. His climate is rather similar to the climate here in McMinnville in most regards. His philosophy and practical approach suit my own inclinations. I’ve got a much smaller space, but the basics are the basics – are they not? I bought his book. lol It’s excellent with my morning coffee on a Spring morning.
What can I say? I like books.
I spent a portion of yesterday’s sunshine out in the garden, planting kitchen herbs in the front flower beds. I’m not personally a fan of the American “standard Pleasant Valley Sunday suburban curb appeal landscaping” that is so common in suburban communities and neighborhoods. I know, it’s a template that’s easy to work from, but omg – so lazy, and unpleasantly homogenous! I get that developers building a community of homes to sell to consumers would want to be easily (and cheaply) able to purchase and plant the necessary landscape, but for fucks’ sake would it really be that hard to provide some variety? In the case of this little house of ours, it’s easy to point back at the developer although the house is 18 years old; it was clear that most of the landscaping was wholly original, never altered by the previous owner. He wasn’t a gardening sort. lol (I’m sure the handful of recently-added primroses in the flower beds was something the realtor thought of to prepare the house for sale.) Now, a couple cycles of seasons has passed, and I’ve got a sense of where I’d like to take this garden… it’s time to get to work out there!
Kitchen herbs waiting to be planted.
…It was very satisfying planting some thyme, oregano, sage, and flowers. The lupines and nasturtiums that I had planted last year are making an appearance this year. That delights me. The roses are wide awake and growing fast – soon the small buds will be blossoms! (Well… soon-ish.) The veggies are planted in grow bags, along the rock walk that tops the retaining wall, just past the deck. Later, when the weather is warmer, I’ll plant peppers in hydroponic buckets. I also plan to have some Japanese eggplant (most of the veggies this year are chosen for stir fries, which I’m doing a lot). The eggplant has a lovely form and flowers; I’ll tuck a couple of those into the front flower beds as “showy annuals”. 😀
My thoughts are in the garden on this lovely Spring morning… it’s a distraction from the task ahead. I’m taking down my aquarium today, permanently. Oh, no tragedy, it’s not like that. It simply takes a lot of time to maintain, and in this little house there just isn’t an ideal location for it that suits the purpose. Where it sits now, it is too close to a big sunny window, which has led algae to proliferate and I’m over fighting with it. It’s noisy to live with, and it’s adjacent to the bedroom wall… and the entire point originally was a soothing “noise cancelling” device to allow my living space to preserve some sense of privacy and solitude in the midst of a noisy household that was triggering my PTSD regularly. I don’t need that, now. Now the noise is an unwelcome distraction, and the tank has become problematic to maintain. So.
I’m sipping my coffee slowly. It’s still quite hot, and I’m not quite awake, yet. The alarm jerked me from a deep sleep with its incessant beeping, and I’m very groggy, and the tiniest bit annoyed. I definitely could have slept longer. My Traveling Partner is already awake, himself. I assume he is excited about the arrival of a package he’s been waiting on, but I didn’t actually ask. (Those first minutes, before either of us is fully awake, are generally a poor choice for conversation.) I make him coffee, and return to my studio. I catch myself smiling as I sit down to my desk. Love matters. 🙂
Yesterday was a pleasant productive work day that finished with a headache. Self-care really matters. I’d fallen short of how much water I needed to be drinking on a hot day, and I think I only had 1 cup of coffee, instead of my reliable 2 cups. That’d do it. Pollen count was also super high yesterday, and apparently “allergies” are a thing I may have, after all. lol “Get out of the city, they said…” 😉
Trees and sky… and pollen?
It’s definitely summer now, in this time of pandemic. People move around the community more. There are small very selective gatherings of people who feel safe with each other occurring here and there in the community, and in my neighborhood. Stores are open, but not crowded, and mask-wearing is not stigmatized (or avoided) in this community (which I appreciate). Small changes are evident everywhere – and not just the masks. The historic downtown area is closed to cars, to allow restaurants to extend their dining space onto the sidewalks and into the street. Social distancing. The entrance to many retailers has a prominent mask and hand sanitizer station (“If you forgot yours – take one of ours!”). Some businesses mark the floor with a “shopping flow” pattern and ask that customers follow that (Ikea-style) from entrance through check-out. Take-out, delivery, and curbside pick-up are super popular options these days. The way I plan errands has changed; I count on those curbside pick-up options, often, and that means planning the time those can take. We still avoid going out, generally. It’s too easy not to go out. Super easy to stay home. 🙂
Small details here at home change, too, as we move in, and get settled. It’s less a disruption than it is a refinement of lifestyle, over time. Yesterday, my Traveling Partner put a shade over the hot tub to keep me from getting sun burned. Small details. I was prepared to find myself much less resilient than I’ve been. It’s a pleasant observation to be able to make. Growth over time. We become what we practice. 🙂 I think about that for a few minutes, in the context of less-than-ideal practices (and characteristics), and sip my coffee while I reflect on becoming the woman I most want to be.
…I remember the new sprinkler my Traveling Partner got for me (I ran over the last one, quite by mistake, backing out of the garage), and I recall the day is expected to be quite hot. It seems a good time to water the lawn… and begin again. 🙂
Evening Light 