even on sunny days, the thick cloud threatens to descend. i try to rally. it is sunday. i woke up early, on time for the early service at st. a's. i sat in the back and recited the nicene creed with my eyes closed. i prayed the lord's prayer. i took the bread and cup and listened to the stories of ecuador afterward, in a sunday school room. i sat on the floor, indian style, my feet humming with numbness. saw the gifts of community and service on the faces of the storytellers.
later, i had a milkshake.
i lay in the backyard, on a blanket thrown over purple clover, and read awhile. i stared up at the thick, harmless clouds of an early spring sky, thankful to be able to stay so long in the grass before the mosquitoes come. maybe we should camp out here some night, i said to sandy. pitch a tent by the ditch we call a creek and drink cheap beer, tell ghost stories.
then i napped on the blanket, under the tree.
so. i try to rally. poke holes. breathe as deep as i can. beat back heavy clouds by tending to small things.
i try to rally.
Annie, It bodes well that your feet are "humming with numbness." Trademark that phrase, quick! It is beautiful. So are you.
Hey Anne. I sat outside Sunday, too, trying to take in what I could, telling myself it was sufficient...no matter I can't soak it all up anymore. Even little sips of water can keep us hydrated. I so love reading your blog.