A cool summer evening breeze sighed through the pine trees behind me. I stopped weeding for a moment to sniff the air. It smelled green; from mown grass that dried in the sun, of the freshly pulled weeds at my side, of nearby moist field grasses growing on top of last year’s mulch. Now in shade, the garden soil beneath me felt smooth and silky, still warm from the day’s heat.
Archive | August 2012
Rainless in Seattle
Raindrops beat a restless tattoo on the leaves of a flowering crabapple tree outside my bedroom window. Not wanting to get up yet, I kept my eyes pinched tightly shut. As the rain increased, I became aware of its insistent, rhythmic drumming on the rooftop. Continue reading
Garden Fantasies
Nearly exhausted, I gave one last mighty pull. A loud mechanical growl assaulted my eardrums. Fumes from the freshly started engine spiraled skyward like smoke up a chimney. The stench burned my nose, making tears well up in my eyes. Smiling with satisfaction, I pushed a lever forward, and the tiller’s sharp metal blades eagerly leapt ahead.
Middle-aged Mutant Mother
A shaft of bright orange morning sun spilled from a patient room out into the hallway. I glanced at the assignment sheet in my hand and yawned. How much sleep had I gotten last night? five hours! A deep weariness that I felt to the very marrow of my bones weighed me down. In the hall, two phlebotomists rushed past the nursing station toward the elevator with fresh blood samples to be tested.
Life Lines 