I started out this morning, setting up a chair outside in the sun, in the garden, to do my fifteen minutes of wild writing. Something caught my attention...probably Avery wandering a bit too close to the road...and the intention to write evaporated. I was off to grab a bucket and a spade.
As usual when I work in the garden, I start out one place, with one task, then move around as if I were a bee searching for nectar. Or maybe I simply have a very short attention span when I tend to my plants. Weed a little in point A, dump out my bucket, on the way back to to point A, point B says "hey look at these tomato cages, don't you want to get those set up before the plants get too big?" Get point B task done, then point C says, "you need to feed those plants some of this compost now, right?" Point C task gets done and it's back to point A...for a while. And with that, many hours pass with many points being recipients of my ministrations, as I criss cross the yard.
I'm a little tired by all the puttering now ("putter"...a word I love but it often doesn't convey the actual effort put into a task)...and I'm not sure I'm going to get to the wild writing. I'm here though, writing in another place, in another way, which is energy in that general direction.
I took a camera out after all the watering was done. The late afternoon dappled light landed on a very old (and blooming) arugula, on a poppy already closed up shop for the day, on the lovely stand of foxgloves beginning to form. It's not hard for me to understand why it's so easy to get sidetracked in the garden.
Now, at 6pm, the next question is...what will I eat tonight? I'm off to get that answered promptly!
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