The sun's rays, so recently angry and cruel, now warm and caress me as I wander outside. Like the phenomenon that is childbirth, I feel the pain of summer receding and the memories quickly fading. Already I am preparing new garden beds in an attempt to create a shady oasis to protect me when next the heat attacks.
The human spirit is strong and I am able, each year, to gather enthusiasm and work with wonder as I watch the land renew. The grass grows, hidden seeds burst through the soil and life becomes lush, abundant and healing for my soul. The process happens annually without fail though I've realised lately the dreams and hopes are dimmed slightly. Almost imperceptibly.
The cycle continues with dreams and hope awakening. My energy slowly recovers, hope puts a spring in my step as I toil stubbornly to create my dream. When will I acknowledge that I am beaten; that I will never win the battle on this property we chose to make our home?
When will I learn? How many plants will I nurture through the gentle months to watch helplessly as they die a cruel, dry death?
How many summer onslaughts can my dreams live through before they collapse and crumble, defeated, just another component of the dust in my yard?
I laugh as I read this. Yes, it's how I feel but HOW dramatic! It's just a post by way of explanation on my current mood and my reason for my absence. The good, the bad and the ugly of trying to live sustainably while dealing with climate, lack of money and time, and still trying to raise a family. I hope things are running smoother at your place.