Setting sun on my left cheek as I stand near the bean stocks that are expectant with summer, tendrils of bursting tender beans twirling in the soft air. Verdant respite of whispering conspirators–the poppy least of all, she’s done her dance and slumps now, out of the chorus of tubers and crawling vines–all vying for space, nudging one another as they race towards the sun each dawn.
Here I am in the unexpected moment: an intervention by root vegetables, dill, chives, cabbage, sweet peas, tomatoes, basil, surrounding me with their green insistence to awake, awake! Swallows swoop past my head and hummingbirds tread air wildly, waiting, waiting, for my decision. Will I let go of it? As in really let go of the weight of it, the life before and be in the life that is? Now?
Waking to abundance, the garden goes on, the trees go on, the birds go on and the green prayer comes in each day like a wave, calling me to answer, surrender to forgetting and live the new.