This morning, I did as little as possible, having exhausted myself with work, my new radio show, a thousand errands and projects. But, at the insistence of the neighbor's cat that chooses to spend it's time on the porch when the possum isn't using it, I drug myself to the stoop let poor kitty curl onto my lap. Not that I had a choice.
While sitting there, pinned down next to the potted pansies, I noticed two snails cruising the foliage, gliding like whispers across the green. One idled to nibble a spent bloom as the other stretched onto a leaf that couldn't bear its weight and collapsed. The snail clung on, upside down, suspended and to my eye, in trouble. I almost reached out to help it, but then, it took the opportunity to feed on a bloom that was hidden to me until I peered closer. So, I let it be. Maybe the snail isn't so dumb. Just then, a neighbor hurried into his car, gunned the engine and whiplashed down the street.
How interesting that these two polar opposites present themselves together, right in front of my eyes. Patience and impatience, grace and speed, opportunity presenting itself and seeking it out. A lot to consider.
Then, to myself, I chided my neighbor for being in such a hurry, careless of anything in his way. What's all the rush for? And is it worth the risk of missing so much, so much that blurrs by in our haste to get it all done. Is it worth draining ourselves to check a task off of our to-do lists, run as fast as we can, g-force winds flapping in our cheeks like derranged sky-divers?
Idiot.
And then it hit me like a cosmic 2x4- who was I calling an idiot, too worn out to pull a few weeds on such a pretty day, struggling to link words into cohearrant sentences. It's a good thing the porch isn't screened in, else that rock I chucked at my neighbor would have bounced back and beaned me in the head. I like my head, tired as it is, wrinkles and all. So, tomorrow, I'm playing hookey, taking a day off. No work, just lazy. And you can tell my boss, I don't care. Her name is Sheri L. Wright. Having one's own business does have its advantages.
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Love it! And love the way you write!
ReplyDeleteThank you France. I appreciate your words.
ReplyDelete"Snail gliding like whispers." Great line Sheri!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. You tell your boss to take it easy on you. Better yet, fire yourself. LOL. But, yeah...I know how it is. I have two speeds...stop and go go go and no in between.
Thanks gal. I wish I could fire myself. I'm waiting for that glorious day when I can make a living doing something more creative. When you see paintbrushes whizzing through the air, you'll know it's happened. lol
ReplyDeleteenjoying your blog, sheri.
ReplyDeletea visit with a brother recently resulted in a drive down memory lane. we both recalled the gorgeous water fountain at the power camp where we grew up, about five miles from the closest town. we would spend all day finding snails and to-die-for chunks of moss. we'd line the water fountain with the moss and then introduce the snails to their new gorgeous home. the next day? the workers at the power camp would have torn it all out. we could not understand how they couldn't see the beauty.
i like thinking of you, right now, at that whisper pace.
Thank you Sherry. Glad my scribbles are pleasing.
ReplyDeleteI loved your snail story. Beautiful sentiment. I can see it all happening clearly and if I had been there, I would have joined in the re-moldeling.
Silly grown-ups sometimes forget how to see beauty in things that can't be bought at a mall. Thanks for reminding us that it isn't so.
I like that, "at a whisper pace".