Apr 18, 2006

Having One Of Those Moments

How is it that Life sometimes can hit you with one of those moments when everything seems perfect, idyllic, and somehow so good as to be unreal?

I went home for lunch, which I sometimes do, and in the middle of making a sandwich I happened to glance out the kitchen window, which overlooks the back yard, and I caught sight of one of my flowerbeds back there, and for just an instance I was overwhelmed with the desire to drag a chair out there and sit in the shade.

Then I came to my senses.

It looked perfect, you see. A big, middle-aged pecan tree, dappling the ground with shadow and light, and a round bed edged with tan bricks around it, filled with good black earth. Right in the front is the pale green tendrils of a purple clematis climbing the rough trunk of the tree, covered in dark green arrow-head cones of flowers-to-be. Around it's feet, thriving in the tree's shade is the long thin leaves of spider lilies, spread out in random profusion, bordered by regular groups of gladiolus leaves like verdegrised swords thrust hilt-first into the earth. Scattered around the last open bits of ground are the dark green raggedy petunias, compact little patches of leaves surmounted by huge deep purple trumpets pointing every which way, as if to play a peal of violet and brass song into the cool air.

But then, as I said, I came to my senses.

I was easily fooled by the previous week's moderate temps as well as the air conditioner inside into believing that I could simply walk outside and it'd be the same temperature, cool and comfortable. The awake and uncharmed part of me knew that it was actually almost 90 out there, and ten steps toward that oasis of shade and dappled light I would be sweating like a port whore during Navy shore leave.

So dreams are put away for a little longer, and some other me in some other garden spot in the depths of my cramped and overcrowded skull is taking his afternoon rest under that shady place, smoking a big bowl full of tobacco, enjoying the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind, and nursing a tall glass of iced tea.

4 comments:

Liz said...

ACK...you had me at Port Whore...I'm still spitting Diet Coke through my nose!!!

Nancy Dancehall said...

Oh that SUCKS! So close and yet so far!

Irrelephant said...

Yup, that was the pain of it all--I could FEEL it, could SEE it, but Reality slapped me square in the choppers.

Irrelephant said...

Liz, glad you enjoyed it. *s* I find myself obscurely proud when I can manage a reverse coke snort.