My hands are sore and my neck is sunburnt. There is so much life in the dirt. Spiders, beetles, roly-polys, all scrambling out of the way of my gardening knife. And the ants! So many of them up and down the sidewalk and into the crack and none too happy that I am yanking out the plants that hide the entrance to their home. I hated to trim the rosemary bush, but it was threatening to take over the front walk. I wished I could roast a flock of chickens or build a fragrant bonfire instead of sweeping the branches into the yard waste bin.
A crow watched from the wire, or hobble-hopped around in the street. It swooped and squawked. It seemed to know that something was up. I thought I saw a crow hide something in the grass once. Maybe I was close to one of its treasures.
These evenings in May are so strange; it's not yet dark at ten. And tonight a blue moon. (Without a love of my own.)
Saw a coyote trotting along on a fairway of the golf course. Hijo was pretty excited, shouting from the back seat of the car, "where? where?" until he spotted it. Now every time we drive by that spot he says, "hi coyote!"
The weeds, the grass, they just keep growing. I'm told that soon, when it's drier, it won't be such a chore to keep up with it all. The crunch of the knife in the soil is satisfying. I toss the clumps of grass and tangles of vines behind me as I work. I have uprooted so much lately - so much over the course of my life. I rake the dirt smooth, pull bits of leaves from it. I wish for rain.