Quiet Time
I put my quiet time to good use.
I took a long shower; shaved my legs and all. I blew my hair dry. I put on a black bra and a thin white tank top. I like the way that combination feels. It doesn't make me feel sexy, or scandalous, or rebellious, even though that would be more obvious than how it does make me feel--solid and balanced and content and present to the moment. I also put on my dark wooden bangle and my dark blue jeans.
I gathered up some supplies and made a little camp out on the back porch. I had my book, my water, and my bubble gum. I gave myself a manicure and pedicure. My toenails are now hot pink.
I sat for a long time without a sweater, just the tank top. The clouds were high and misty, obscuring the sun most of the time. The dominant colors of the landscape around me were a faint silver and gold that changed as the clouds and sun took turns in the front row. When the sun burned through the clouds, it was warm, almost hot. My bare arms loved it. The breeze blew my hair all around. The birds sang to me, and the spring peepers sounded like echoing bells ringing from the valley nearby. As the afternoon passed, the breeze became crisper and colder and I slipped into my charcoal gray merino cardigan. I bought it from the GAP Outlet years and years ago, and it's still a nice sweater.
I settled into my book, not the one I'm obsessed with, but the one I'm interested in and wanted to finish. As I was skimming the final page, a loud popping sound from the distance interrupted me. It was probably from a gun. I suppose hunting season isn't over after all. The pop reminded me of the bubble gum on the table next to me, so I popped a piece in my mouth and chewed for a while, enjoying the too sweet flavor and soft, smooth texture in my mouth.
I set my book down, took off my glasses and gazed at the blurry landscape. There's something about this time of year that fills me with quiet joy and restlessness. The colors are soft and watery, and the air is too. It's not quite spring time, but it's also not the sharp icy winter anymore. The winter could come back with force tomorrow, or the spring could further stake it's claim, but for now, maybe only for today, it's just a little warmer, just a little fuzzier, and just a little calmer as time takes a break and gets ready for the change ahead.
I took a long shower; shaved my legs and all. I blew my hair dry. I put on a black bra and a thin white tank top. I like the way that combination feels. It doesn't make me feel sexy, or scandalous, or rebellious, even though that would be more obvious than how it does make me feel--solid and balanced and content and present to the moment. I also put on my dark wooden bangle and my dark blue jeans.
I gathered up some supplies and made a little camp out on the back porch. I had my book, my water, and my bubble gum. I gave myself a manicure and pedicure. My toenails are now hot pink.
I sat for a long time without a sweater, just the tank top. The clouds were high and misty, obscuring the sun most of the time. The dominant colors of the landscape around me were a faint silver and gold that changed as the clouds and sun took turns in the front row. When the sun burned through the clouds, it was warm, almost hot. My bare arms loved it. The breeze blew my hair all around. The birds sang to me, and the spring peepers sounded like echoing bells ringing from the valley nearby. As the afternoon passed, the breeze became crisper and colder and I slipped into my charcoal gray merino cardigan. I bought it from the GAP Outlet years and years ago, and it's still a nice sweater.
I settled into my book, not the one I'm obsessed with, but the one I'm interested in and wanted to finish. As I was skimming the final page, a loud popping sound from the distance interrupted me. It was probably from a gun. I suppose hunting season isn't over after all. The pop reminded me of the bubble gum on the table next to me, so I popped a piece in my mouth and chewed for a while, enjoying the too sweet flavor and soft, smooth texture in my mouth.
I set my book down, took off my glasses and gazed at the blurry landscape. There's something about this time of year that fills me with quiet joy and restlessness. The colors are soft and watery, and the air is too. It's not quite spring time, but it's also not the sharp icy winter anymore. The winter could come back with force tomorrow, or the spring could further stake it's claim, but for now, maybe only for today, it's just a little warmer, just a little fuzzier, and just a little calmer as time takes a break and gets ready for the change ahead.