Here and There

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Fuzz







Last week, I walked through a school garden with the kids.  Deserted on a summer afternoon, we picked golden raspberries and strawberries and chard, I studied the labyrinth, there were flowers and herbs and vegetables.  It seemed like the sun was holding it all down with a steady heat.  And me too, I felt like I was clobbered and disoriented by bad news and this fuzz of the sun in the late afternoon was gentling me.  The garden was terraced and full of small paths.  I wandered and felt calm.  A bee working, a dove.  The fuzz of gold on everything in the garden on that warm afternoon.  How could it possibly comfort me?  I don't understand that part.