I continued hoeing and pulling in my garden today. I worked this morning and then again in the evening, after a cooling rain. The ground was damp, making the pulling easier. The soil was rich and spongy. I thought to myself, "I did that." It was just sand when I started. When we moved here, that ground was dead. Now it's full of worms.
I put the dogs inside so they wouldn't follow me to the busy road, and then I walked toward the mailbox. I cut through the yard, through the apple trees. Just beyond the trees, the grass was long and bent away from me. The leaves caught the dying sun and looked blue. I understood what the Impressionists saw when they painted their landscapes. Last night on Charlie Rose, an art critic said the public was told Impressionist Art was dangerous. Pregnant women were warned that gazing upon the paintings could cause miscarriage.
Art shows us how to live. Had I never seen an Impressionist painting, grass would be forever green to me, never blue. Humans' need for order is profound. Yesterday, I felt some grief at uncovering the bird's nest, filled with eggs as I pulled weeds from my garden. I felt some reluctance at baring the ground and giving it back to the sun. Let nature have its way, I kept thinking.
But today order was good, and the sun was good. The air was cooler today after the rain, and the sun felt warm, not hot, on my arms. Today, maybe, the sun gave my body something it needs.
My friend tree
I sawed you down
but I must attend
an older friend
-- Lorine Niedecker