Slow Is Still Moving; The Story

There are dangerous heat advisories every day. Today Alok didn’t find ice at the store. Their shipment never came.

The house is smelling ripe, although with a sick migraine I admittedly have an impossible sense of smell.

The sun doesn’t reach the terrace of the Sanctuary until about 11 am central time.

The bees are sleepy still at 8 am and only the butterflies that spent the night in the sanctuary are stirring.

I’m taking a little while each morning to pull out selected containers of plants to tidy them up.

I snip the dead parts off, remove the shredded leaves from the top of the soil and pull any weeds. If the plant needs to be righted in the ground I gently shove down on the raised side and if needed I tie the branches to a stake of some kind.

The pots then get lined up on a spot I cleared on the other side of the driveway.

One by one, I tend to the plants.

Today’s efforts included the Joe pye weed. Bees kept me company. I’ve photographed bees going to sleep in a bed of Joe pye blossoms at night. When the sun reaches the blossom they sleepily have breakfast.

Day 5 of no electricity (Alok says Sunday didn’t count because it went off at 8pm, I beg to differ), day 3 of waking with a migraine. I try not to think about it but smells are making that impossible as my stomach lurches in response being activated by inner ear induced nausea.

Despite the heat, I am armed with my noise canceling headphones against the neighbors generator and the gas blowers of the landscaping crews. (Wednesday and Thursday they drone on for hours)

The before, the after and the bees

Before
The after
The bees

When Alok returns with the Crv , successfully finding gas, not successful for the ice. I retreat to the Sanctuary of cool air only to find the reek of gasoline. Lurching stomach, I’ve got no patience for you.

I can manage that too.

With spearmint oil on my face mask, a very rich smelling candle and some febreze , my Sanctuary is tolerable again.

In the background Alok continues to drag debris to the curb until the dangers of heat are apparent. my neat rows of tended to pots of native plants.

Slow progress; still progress

Published by J Kharey; Resilient Chameleon

I am The Resilient Chameleon. Mastering self-adaptation, reinvention and transformation, trying to fit my vast multi-passionate psyche into society's too small box, I missed something intrinsically important, the only truth we can live is our own. The only true path we can follow is the one our own soul knows. Insatiably curious, never content to not understand a life lived in paradoxes and consistently inconsistent, mine is not the sterile landscape; I find order in the chaos of wild plantings, patterns creating harmony, awe in the sacredness, the spice of surprise and the equanimity of synchronicity. In this Sanctuary you have many choices. Come join me on my journey and walk beside me for a while, explore with the eyes of a different perspective, or travel your own path. Together we can plant and nurture the seeds that allow our souls to flower. It is never too late to bloom.

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