This spring has been an interesting one – dry, warm winter means much local pondering & conversations regarding what ‘bugs’ that lay humans low may not have been killed off with wet & freezing winter weather, while I work to meet Spring Frenzy time while energy sapped from setback in health.
I also mentally move, continually, between quietly thinking I can ‘get by’ ignoring outdoor work, while doing other work for awhile, in light of given chances for late spring blizzard,
To the alternate reality of walking my place, viewing the landscape and realizing if I don’t get in the garden, soon, I may well have a runaway wildlife sanctuary of green things on my hands….including some aggressive inhabitants that don’t play nice.
I continue to have one ‘trouble’ spot of bindweed that has defied all attempts at eradication through weeding and other such means –
I am seriously considering whether I can hold out, for one more year, keeping it contained to that spot, without resorting to chemical assistance –
If I give in for EZ now, solution, pick a calm, non-breezy day and deliver directly via a q-tip or eye-dropper, cuz, that’s the least risky way, right? 🙂
Something has got to give, and quite frankly, from my perspective, I cherish my ‘made it! despite black thumb gardening attempts’ plum trees that are the prime target of said invader.
I’ve also gone from worrying over whether the beautiful rhubarb will ‘make it’ to ruby red harvest time through spring snows, to considering whether today would be the day it falls to high winds, hail and tornados.
It’s not that I technically have had time to seriously ‘worry’ about such possibilities – but it makes a funny “what humans choose to worry about” story, does it not?
Death of Rhubarb possibilities via a foot of heavy snow OR turbulent spring thunderstorms – all in space of a week.
Alas, even though the home area was under tornado warning today…
…Even though the deep blue/purple horizon to the west indicated massive storm system approaching from both north and south….
…Even though I caught the tail end of the Emergency Broadcast blaring from radio, when I re-entered my vehicle to return home after running errands…
…and I also arrived home to view text message from local Emergency System, informing me how to take cover, in event of ACTUAL tornado, etc., etc.,
As the afternoon/evening wore on, I chose to visit my back doors step, often, to view the sky and smell the air.
I watched the clouds play across the sky and lifted my nose to smell the crisp air that carried not one tinge of the (?acrid? charged? words defy description…) smell learned and logged in my brain, long ago.
The smell that can send me into hiding/cowering mode, in a heartbeat.
Today, while gazing at purple skies, I also listened as the host of local birds filled the air with chatter and song….
Observed aviation hunters riding high in the sky, gliding and floating as if the landscape of the heavens above were calmer flight paths than the space held by my top branches of Grandfather Ponderosa Pine tree.
I finally listened to Mother Nature and decided, “Tornado-schnnormado – We are safe – for now -”
But the fear was there, all the same
Fear of chaos caused by summer storms that arrive after dark, and move unseen across the prairie, unless Lightning chooses to reveal them.
Of Fingers of Fate that reach from the heavens to twist, toss and destroy – I know just a tad about such things and while I strive to laugh in face of a white-out blizzard driving experience, summer storms that play in the dark run the cold finger of fear through the deep soul part of me.
Yes, I cleared the staged piles of gardening materials off the top of my door-in-the-floor gateway to cellar haven.
I also opened all the windows to prevent pressure glass explosions AND to increase the odds of hearing the warning siren if it should sound from a few blocks away –
And then laughed at myself and my “back-up plan” activities, when the dark clouds went north and south of here – in the perfect split I’ve observed so many times over the years, here in this locale.
I returned to ‘work’ in front of the computer, came up for air some hours later, to realize it was dark and listened to the gentle, soothing, pitter-patter of rainfall gracing this space.
I’m not sure when late in day thunderstorm fears will lose their grip on me –
But I sure do appreciate the times when I can laugh at myself, my fears and go to sleep to the gentle melody of rain falling.
When the distant flashes and rumbles of electricity at play are too far away to startle me into fight or flight mode.
Recently, a patron at the library wrote out a quote for me, attributed by said patron, to “Fred Anonymous” – which tickled me.
I folded it at the end of a long day and shoved it into the deep pockets of my jeans for the journey home. I, somehow, managed to remember to retrieve it before doing laundry – and now, it shall go on my ‘wall of inspiration’ over my desk at home -the little quote, scrawled across recycled scratch paper, that intrigues me.
Fate whispers to the Warrior, ‘You cannot withstand the Storm.’
The Warrior replies, ‘I am the Storm’
I like it, even though, deep inside, I seriously question if the Storm is of Summer variety, whether I’ll meet it in way that speaks of Warrior status – given my understanding of what the term, “Warrior” precisely entails –
Most likely, I’ll be cowering in my cellar, waiting and listening – which doesn’t really sound like Warrior status-worthy, just now…
But I like the sentiment –
It’s a boon to be reminded of the beauty and grace portions of the Storm, even while one waits to see what it shall do – to ponder just what they share in common with the Storm – and what they fear from something they are intrinsically connected with.
Warrior bestowed-status or not, me, you, we – are all the Storm – in all it’s potential for destruction, tempered by the gifts only the Storm can bring.