Last week at the cabin. Enjoying the pleasure of letting go and living in another person's space. Bare feet on licheny shore rocks, looking for crayfish and slapping at mosquitos. The slickness of fish scales as Tim caught and released sunnies. Soft dusky colors as the setting sun turned the lake into black diamonds. Canadian money. Daisies and Queen-Anne's Lace, memories, mothballs and cast iron pans. Swimming and getting chilled and then scooting one's bathing suit off to hang it on the line under one's towel and then heading across the pine needles to take a shower. Taco night. Leopard frogs plopping cannily away just before getting sighted. Leaving the cell phone off. Not having Internet. Not even writing anything down in my journal.
This week at home. The plants' growth boom due to the excessive rain ~ the tomatoes falling over, the barrels bursting with rosemary, the flowers falling off blooms and laying underneath like tiny colorful dropped hankies. Cedar picking his first blueberries and wild raspberries off of our bushes. Rainstorms and lightning at bedtime, luxurious! A rainy powerwalk for me, with Indi very protestingly accompanying me with his backpack on. A big yogurt container full of berries picked in the downpour, fielding dripping fuzzy thorns and then seeing Tim, whilst leaning out the second story window, yell to me "She had a boy!" (Spending some time after that thinking how, princess or pauper, we all have to get through childbirth to meet that baby.) Cool showers after very sweaty, dirt-painted afternoons. Trying to catch up. I don't think I will ever be.
But I'm okay with that.