Daylilies

 September 22, 2022

Sept in a cocoon of inflammation last night, enfolded by pain. I knew all I had to do was get up and take a pill to alleviate it, but I lingered a long time before I did. There was some odd comfort in the pain. 

Squalls of cold rain backed by sharp wind, though the first half of the day was summer, and in that late warmth I got daylily and iris into the ground, cleared out space for the next batch before my strength gave way. Rounding the side of the house I came upon the same big, dark hawk that had called in the branches before. He was on the ground, and I think he’d caught something, possibly a snake. Too big and dark and shambling to be Sweetboi– I think he’s a this year’s red-tail finding safety in my garden. After the planting I sat downcast on a chair on the front porch, thinking such thoughts as one has, and I heard the gentlest rustling. I looked up, and the hen turkey stood three feet away, staring at me. She’s not used to the big ape being so still. She hopped back onto the ground and led her five big chicks on a foraging journey through the garden. I followed them around back to watch them nibble through the great pavilions of sunflower and goldenrod. How many devastations and disappointments is a sight like that intended to make up for? Some, truly: probably not as many as God thinks. 

AVLGMC rehearsal tonight. I truly doubt I have the stamina to make it through all that.