This morning I dragged my inner self kicking and screaming to the office. I was almost late and all but my physical self clung to everything beautiful and calm that I passed along the way. Dreams like kites burst out of me, tethered by longing. One day I will find myself spending days how I choose. However, I swam in the ocean this afternoon, which makes up for a lot. I splashed around at a place where the water is cool and clear, and angled rocks make a small tucked-away beach at the end of a winding rural road. There were big swells coming in; they lifted and lulled me as I tilted my head back to take in the wind-tossed treetops. Small blackberries at the top of the beach trail. Home, and dinner, and tea. Summer is sliding by quickly.
Feral fennel softens the roadsides of my neighborhood, and something that looks a lot like scraggly kale clings to the rocky seawall. I'm getting into the groove of things at work. Yesterday evening I was sick and fell asleep facedown on the floor after lurching around the house looking intermittently like a pufferfish. Tonight, I watered the garden and put the house back in order. It has been windy lately. I've been trying to wear office appropriate clothes, and by the time I get to work my hair has been completely restyled by the elements. Oh well. Mostly it has felt like I've been walking into the wind, but it shifted the other day and was at my back, gently pushing me along.
In the gray morning, I watched an otter swimming in the clear water by the mermaid statue on my way to work. Sleek and playful in the small, lapping waves, it made me wish for summer beach days. On my way home, in the sunny afternoon heat (yes!) I watched an otter climbing and sliding on rocks below some people who were lounging in the sun. The otter kept creeping closer to them, then scuttling back and rolling happily in camas and tall grass. At home, the garden is my new favorite place. We stayed out there, planting, weeding and watering until the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the fence. Some of our salad greens are starting to come up, and the onions, and the raspberry transplants are sprouting new canes. Tomorrow we'll be planting beets and again battling the buttercups. Ranunculus, that rascal, is my least favorite plant. If it were safe for rabbits to nibble I'd feel quite differently about its adventitiously sprawling growth.
This week has been beautiful. It has also felt much longer than a week. I could easily be led to believe that the days have always been structured just so, that is the extent of my settling into this new routine. My new job (yes, another and they just keep getting better and better) settles nicely into that place between breakfast and mid/late afternoon, weekdays. It's refreshing. My commute is a 30 minute walk, mostly along the ocean. Tuesday morning, I saw otters playing in the grass beside the path. The greening, flushing out of trees is continuing. Chestnut branches are like candelabras with their pillars of flowers. We went for a pre-birthday brunch and wildflower walk last Sunday, a gloriously sunny, 21-degree day.