I walked around Grandmother’s yard today, and it was a momentous moment. The walk harbored a great solitude, that makes me feel, on the brink of—just really in grace. A comfort.
The warmth of summertime
the green trees, the singing birds
Grass gently swaying in the breeze
I loved the hot air. I stepped under a tree with pink feathery flowers, and wanted one in my own yard to enjoy. I remember the contours of the yard and the grass as I walked over it. I was truly blessed in those moments.
It brought back memories of the past, as I walked by where my family used to park our car on visits, at the bottom of the hill from the house. I was a little girl with my “going to Grandma’s” suitcase. We walked up the hill and Grandmother walked out of the house at the top to meet us.
Today I walked past a tree I used to climb. It looked smaller than it did then. Grandaddy came out of the house and told me get down because I was going to get hurt, the sad worried expression on his face—familiar because it is in me. I didn’t get down. I believed in my own ability.
Those were two memories that came to me, on that walk. There could have been more, vague and sweet.
Like the sweat of summer
Sun shining down
Wind whispering in the trees
It is hot, fragrant and sweet