Perfection
I have a flower bed that is mostly infested with weeds. All of a sudden this flower popped up. I have tried to pull this plant a few times and it just wouldn't come up. It is kind of a miracle really. I took this picture the day I wrote this:
Fall clothing enchants me with the long sleeves, silky blouses, and comfortably hanging pants. The arrival of fall attire reminds me of back-to-school days past with its promise of newness and a fresh start. I realize that is almost half way through August and I sit in my back yard reading for the first time this season. I have already given up on summer like a broken promise.
Summer began with the excitement of planning a trip, and some new clothes that reflected a new attitude and excitement about life that held the promise of permanence. And summer itself brings the promise of freedom from routine, being stuck inside, and trapped in outfits that include socks. And now the vacation brought illness, the break from routine has given me the opportunity to work more hours than ever before and my arm is covered in a splint that supports my sprained wrist. The new clothes don’t seem to go with a splint. The new attitude has been replaced by old habits and new anxieties.
So it is no wonder that I have given up on summer. I yearn for fall’s promise of protection – the safety and security of routine that is symbolized by the gentle covering of fall clothing. I find hope in the possibility of a re-do. I forget, for now, the anxiety of a full evening schedule and the assault of cold rainy weather that seeps into the bones like only a fall chill can.
Yet as I sit outside enjoying what feels like the perfect temperature and listen to crickets far enough away to be charming I feel a sense of peace. I contemplate creation and remember – it is good.
Summer began with the excitement of planning a trip, and some new clothes that reflected a new attitude and excitement about life that held the promise of permanence. And summer itself brings the promise of freedom from routine, being stuck inside, and trapped in outfits that include socks. And now the vacation brought illness, the break from routine has given me the opportunity to work more hours than ever before and my arm is covered in a splint that supports my sprained wrist. The new clothes don’t seem to go with a splint. The new attitude has been replaced by old habits and new anxieties.
So it is no wonder that I have given up on summer. I yearn for fall’s promise of protection – the safety and security of routine that is symbolized by the gentle covering of fall clothing. I find hope in the possibility of a re-do. I forget, for now, the anxiety of a full evening schedule and the assault of cold rainy weather that seeps into the bones like only a fall chill can.
Yet as I sit outside enjoying what feels like the perfect temperature and listen to crickets far enough away to be charming I feel a sense of peace. I contemplate creation and remember – it is good.
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