Running Away, in my mind

Wet morning, quiet and peaceful, and not a breath of a breeze, the air hot, yes, hot. I turned on the fan to blow away gnats and mosquitoes; it is welcome. The dark outline of trees that line the pasture begin to come into view, night lifting rapidly now. The day coming on, ready or not.

I’m not ready for today, nor was I ready for the frog that somehow landed on my leg that was curled up in the chair. I’d forgotten to shake the towel on the cushion before I sat down. The little critter–little rain frog– must have crawled from beneath it’s folds. I’d been lifting and shaking the towel each morning since the lizard incident, which my dear sister-in-law mention could have been a snake.

In an email this morning was a message from a friend, which read, “I’m in Paris…” No, I don’t want to be in Paris. But I do have the great urge to run away today. Tired of all the care-taker responsibilities. I can no longer leave my mother alone, and there is the ever-present need for making her meals. Jim used to say, “We can’t go…I’m afraid your mother will starve.”

I want to go and hide away from everything today. A not uncommon human urge on this big green ball. Just speaking of it eases it somehow. And this, too, shall pass, and until it does, I’ll imagine trips to the mountains or to the beach, and I’ll give my soul a rest right where I am by doing some small things today that make me happy. Come to think of it, I just did.

Writing always eases my soul, and while I was at it, daylight has come, as much inside as out.