a journal of...

A journal among friends...
art, words, home, people and places

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

The view from here

Birds and the sleepy drone of morning traffic...that's what I hear from my balcony early, my cup at hand, a pen in hand, intended to make the list for the day, but itching to write to you instead.  So I do.  How could I not...looking out at the leafy canopy, the air still cool, the sky a lightly veiled blue, a new morning ritual begun with pleasure.



It's going to be a hot day, but just now the slight chill refreshes, even after the first full night's sleep I've had since moving here to this place eye-level to the tops of trees.  I'm now living three walk-up flights in the air!  Did I mention that I planned to take a small apartment while I was traveling this year, leaving my house in the hands of Joseph and Alexander, Beardy and Pinocchio, their teen-aged bearded dragon and middle-aged cat (the latter newly part of their entourage)?  After two weeks of boxing and bagging, sorting and mulling, I'm nearly all settled in, except for one corner...my workspace, a challenge anywhere, anytime.  But it's today's task, and I'm up for it.


A smaller space, to tell the truth, is an unexpected affront, unless you are a hard-core realist who freely admits to owning more than you can carry.  The summons is good, though:  whereas at home I could shift things through my fingers, believing I needed them, here in little more than half the space, it is easy to release what suddenly one sees as superfluous, sending them on to needier hands.  Perhaps I needed to come here to let go of all that extraneous stuff.  I remember the morning last week when I woke up and said, I don't need to be a museum any more.  That, too, was a letting go.

Reason not the need...says Lear.  But sometimes it's good to.

Even making the decision to leave the house to the children and settle smaller seemed, if not consciously, a necessary retreat.  This place, fortunately, feels like home, if a temporary one...generally quiet, neighbors genial, lots of light, a kitchen window which looks out to the corner of the community garden and inspires me to grow a windowsill of herbs (wouldn't this one be pretty?).


Still, how I'd love to get my hands in that dirt below.  Alas, my travels begin in five days...one chooses one's metier.  I wouldn't be home much even to water those herbs.

Someone among us, though, has planted a vegetable patch, bordered with marigolds.  And someone else has been readying his or her plot, as is clear by the new tangle of tomato hoops and hose.  It's nice to know that in a small space, too, things grow.  And that I can still have my cup and pen at hand looking out at the trees.

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Cuba is next...stay tuned.

2 comments:

  1. How exciting! I'm looking forward to reading all about each adventure!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You know I love corners for morning coffee and musings....yours looks lovely and inviting.
    I'm staying tuned!

    ReplyDelete