the blue muse

It has been perfect gardening weather for days now, sunny, mild, birds singing, flowers flowering, living outside kind of weather. I spent much of the weekend outside, working hard clearing out the one section I never tackled last year. I was reminded, once again, how manual labor really can be good for the soul.

Of course, I had to keep my head down and concentrate on the little patch of earth right in front of me, because every time I looked up at the jungle I still have to conquer, I wanted to go back inside. The big picture is a giant mess, so I got down on my hands and knees and focused on the small stuff.

The gorgeous color in these geraniums.

The feel of the sun on my back.

The barn swallows swooping overhead, chattering away.

And it worked. I found the peace I needed and made it halfway through that section. At the end of the day, I was filthy and exhausted, but it felt so good to stop thinking for a while and just be, to focus on just one thing and enjoy the rhythm of accomplishment.

I didn’t allow myself to worry about how the weeds will grow back, how much more I still have to do, what I’m going to do about that invasive vine.

I just went about my business like a flower, turning my face to the sun, soaking up life and color and doing what must be done.

Which is to say, I think I bloomed.