I have spent the last two days in my yard. I must be a homebody. I enjoyed it more than a carefree weekend in New York; when I was there I knew that was true. I have dug post holes and hung a gate. I have weeded and planted. I fixed a bicycle. I met new neighbors. I drank mojitos of weed mint and unripe lemons in the shade of fruit trees on a bench I had made. I watched the cat stalk flies. I looked up from happy toil as my kids had an early summer day outside together. The sun set on us outside.
I have not known many better days. I imagined a simple perfection and it did not seem so out of reach. There is not much that needs to be said about participating in the growth and destruction of nature, in cultivating order out of chaos and appreciating the inherent order. Words fail everything worthwhile from my garden days.
My working hands -