STORIES & SUCH

The Backyard

I look out the window over my kitchen sink and I am instantly hit with a barrage of colors and shadows.

I see a myriad of greens: the lawn, the oaks, the pine trees.

The Azeleas are blooming in profusion of salmon, fuschia, white; intermingled with the purple/blue flowers of the wild vinca trying to overtake the yard.

I see remnants of daffodils and the start of the iris plants. The rose bushes budding out already, impatiently waiting for just the right depth of warmth to explode in glory. The surest sign that spring has arrived, the dogwoods are blooming, finicky things they are. I see a few straggling tulips too, the ones the squirrels decided they would let live.

Ahhh, the animals. Yes, a backyard would not be complete without them.

The squirrels: little creatures of cunning intelligence. They squeal like pigs, dig up my yard looking for buried treasure, acorns, pine cones, even a single kernel of corn. Red Robins looking for twigs and dried pieces of grass to build nests. The finches also doing the same. Of course here comes the loud and brazen Bluejays, oh they make such a racket! Soon will be time for the Catbirds, as I call them, not sure what the right name is. They like to take turns chasing the cat daily, sure that she will attack the as yet unseen nest. They swoop down low, dive-bombing her, quite funny actually as I think the cat enjoys this seasonal game.

My sight shifts over to my patio and the bench and chairs that sit there. Soon will be time to bring out the tropical plants and place them around in a manner pleasing to the eye. Hibiscus, Crotens, Bourgonvilla, resplendant in their bright island colors. Had a huge banana tree once.

I love to sit outside on the patio soaking up the sun, eyes closed, just listening.

I can hear the wind as it passes through the trees, feels so good. The sound of the busy carpenter, the woodpecker, as he methodically taps for his meal. The doves as they coo to each other. These are the sounds that lull me to a state of inertia and I become immobilized, unable and unwilling to move even a finger.

This is heaven, I'm sure of it.The art of being still and watching grass grow, hmm, only if I have the energy to lift an eyelid.

Just need to throw in the sound of lapping waves. Nah, that's a story for another time. Oh listen, I hear a bee buzzing....zzzzz.. .

Beach House in the Country

It sits there atop a small rise on the land; just high enough for it to catch your eye as you pass it by. It stands out next to those nearby, they are earth tones, brown, brick. This one is white...with long blue shutters. It is brick, with big windows facing the street to observe life.

The roof even has a blue tinge to it. It screams "OCEAN". A couple arrives to look it over. The woman has instantaneous love at first site, just from the colors, and then the yard. What a yard, with established 30 year old trees. In the front of the house is a mighty oak, with huge spreading branches for shade.

The man likes the yard, but more interested in bolts, nails, shingles, beams, etc. They walk in behind the realtor, eyes eager. The woman sets her sights on the kitchen before them, big and spacious; rambling. There is a large window over the sink looking out to the backyard; she is hooked, gotta have this house, always wanted that window over the sink.

She looks around, sees old brown wallpaper, even darker borders and thinks: Good thing there's so much light from these windows...sees the potential.

Typical rancher, with 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths. Living room, and a den.

Oh yes, much potential.

Fast forward five years.......

The woman looks out of the window over the kitchen sink and her thoughts wander. It looks much different, the backyard does. Some big pines have been removed, others felled by hurricanes. Lots of hard work planting, seeding, cutting, pruning. A bench here, a chair there. It is spring now and the yard blazes with color.

She sighs and turns her focus to the kitchen itself. Notes the walls are a sunny yellow, bright with sunshine and warmth. The new white cabinets and the blue lapis colored countertop stand out in contrast. Pleasing to the eye; an easy, comfortable place. Looks like an island kitchen. Her heart breaks again. This was supposed to be the last house, the last home. She is alone now, and leaving this house that she loves. With the demise of her husband, quite suddenly, she finds herself at a new threshhold. As she looks around she sees their imprint of a home together. Lots of ocean things, tropical settings. Peaceful and calm.

Despite her love of the house with it's white paint and blue shutters, she realizes it is just a house...material...expendable. The memories and pictures in her mind will sustain her as she moves on.

Now some of the woman's friends would think her a bit crazy, but she thanks the house for being there and a place of refuge for her. Odd behaviour, but she is a widow now and therefore entitled.

The woman needs to get on with her packing. Time is catching up to her, and she feels the pressure creep in. It is alright she tells herself, she will never forget this beach house that sits in the country. For how could she? She lost her husband here and found herself here. Her new self, strong, self-assured...

she smiles and thanks the house one more time as she hears the settling that happens without fail at ten o'clock every morning-3pops with 3 different tones- and at eight o'clock every night... when it awakens to the sun and sleeps to the moon. Like it gives a great big satisfied sigh. The woman understands.