Saturday, July 01, 2006

a midsummer evening

The lingering twilight of a northern evening beckons me outside, away from the small quarters I share with four other humans, one dog, and 1-3 cats. Tonight it is two cats for now; we have brought in the Cute Kitten Of The Year to be protected from the unknowns (probably tomcats) of the outdoors. Flame point Siamese with sapphire blue eyes. Pictures to come, of course.

Stillness surrounds me outside. Our area is remarkably quiet, even with a few people up to celebrate a holiday weekend at their cabins in the woods. A few 4- wheelers roared by as we lounged and swam at the pond; as they passed by I yelled "This ain't your playground you city bastards!" Of course they could not hear me, but it felt good.

But at twilight it is still; even the neighbors across the road have subsided their f'nheimer-laced family brawl, which they engage in once a month or so. A few roosters still break the silence with their barbaric yawp, and the ever-present veeries float forth a liquid, ethereral call. It's a toss-up between the Veery and the Ovenbird for official breeding bird of Sand Creek. Honorable mention goes to sedge wrens, song sparrows, catbirds, phoebes, and chipping sparrows. (no kingbirds here ;) )

I walk among the rectangular beds of my garden, noting the sugar snap peas which are ready for a genuine harvest and a substantial meal or two. When I plant, it never looks like it will be enough, but at harvest time, I am overwhelmed by the yield from a few square feet filled with horse manure.

I spent a great deal of time today just doing the basic tasks of living; putting away laundry and doing dishes, as well as ongoing straightening-up. It was hot enough to work up a sweat. I could be living in a subdivision with air conditioning and a dishwasher, but then I'd just need more expensive toys and golf club memberships and fast foods and alcohol to delude myself from the fact that the bank really owns my house, I'd have to call a professional if any of the mechanical things sustaining my level of blissful ignorance were to suddenly stop functioning, and my life wasn't really my own.

I pay the price in some ways, but to be serenaded by veeries and tree frogs on a cool summer night, to delight in fresh eggs and produce from the garden, to cool off with a swim in my own pond, is worth everything. This is the life.


Dan Trabue said...

"A few roosters still break the silence with their barbaric yawp, and the ever-present veeries float forth a liquid, ethereral call."

Delicious writing, Deb. Keep paying the price.

Floridacracker said...

It's good. It's all good.

madcapmum said...

You've got me chivvying Chive for a move again. Lovely piece.

Deb said...

thanks. Dan, I must admit I borrowed the rooster/barbaric yawp comment from Edward Abbey, who borrowed it from...Thoreau?

gtr said...

Mmmmm, very nice. I think we have some of the same birds and rooster ruckus around here!

Don't have access to as much manure to get the big yields, yet, though... But what a satisfying thing; meals with your own produce. Yay!! You are truly where you belong, sounds like!