Posted in Stories

Coming back to life

March 18th, 2010

Is this real? Is this really happening? Wrapped in a warm coat, fake fur snuggled up my neck, I’m sitting in my favorite spot of the back yard: my porch swing. Laptop’s where it’s supposed to be, my two cats exploring the outside after a long and cold winter. Of course they know every inch of the garden, having lived with me for over 5 years now. Still they jump at sudden movements, act like sneaking tigers with imaginary preys. Then suddenly they throw themselves down onto the warm pebbles to make funny noises with their paws in the air.
The sun hasn’t reached the swing yet, but is warming my legs in a wonderful way. Do the plants need trimming? I have no idea, they hide in their sticklike form since autumn stole away all their greens. Next to me is a lilac tree, that I planted myself as a wee young sibling. Reaching over two meters now, it dwarfs its mistress. Buds  are swelling on the slender branches, a promise of life prolonged and new life coming  into existence.
What a glorious feeling to be outside again, after having been locked up in my house for almost two weeks. Sensitive is my middle name. Sensitive for lots of things, like perfume, preservatives, for leather paint, glue. And once a year my body decides to develop a respiratory infection. I have no idea why it does that. Perhaps to make me aware of my mortality? Or to see me gasp for air in the middle of sleepless nights? I don’t know and I don’t care. I only want it to go away, and soon too. Codeine pills are the only things that help against the wish of my lungs to turn inside out over a longer period of time. My head feels like a cotton ball, lazily suppressing concern over the work piling up.
Intermezzo: Ninja is making weird sounds and tries to get rid of something. Luckily he’s outside. Bandit is checking him out now… seems his friend is OK. Perhaps Ninja also has a cotton ball, but not in his head. A butterfly flutters its wings past my hands on the keyboard.
If it weren’t for a friend’s text message, I’d be still inside with the heater on. She wrote that she was basking in the sun, gathering energy and didn’t want to do anything else anymore. Thanks Sandra, for sharing this with me. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world: the first spring day. Yes ladies and gents, spring is back! Is it true what they say, that the sun gives vitamines to us? If so, then how many inches of skin must be touched by the golden light? Well, there’s no room for scientific approach of this matter today. Armed with my notebook I simply have to be outside and feel the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks. The back door is wide open to let in oxygen and get rid of the winter’s dust. I don’t need music out here. The birds are singing, spreading the message of a world that’s about to blossom. Time for laughter, time for love, time for spring.


Reader, writer, word player. Collector of visuals. No lady, but all woman. Caretaker of lads & cats, dungeons & dragons. DuTchess. Green witch.

2 thoughts on “Coming back to life

    1. Then perhaps your chronic bronchitis indeed has something to do with allergies Erin. It’s a bit too much coincidence to my liking 😉
      Thanks for visiting my garden with me, and I hope you will return in spring. Or anytime sooner 🙂


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