Last week was a long one, and I never could get caught up on sleep. By the time Friday night rolled around, we had a house full of girls and a college soccer game to attend, and the game went into overtime. I barely remember collapsing into bed that night.
Saturday morning came, and my alarm went off just after six. It was so tempting to turn it off. The sun was just starting to stream in through the open windows, the breeze was cool, and the sheets and blankets felt so good. The girls would be sleeping a few more hours if we let them, and I felt like it was perfectly rational to want to stay in bed and grab some more sleep.
Ten minutes later I got up. I knew that this was my time, and that I never regretted it when I took it. I threw on running clothes this morning instead of yoga ones. My yoga instructor wasn’t teaching that day, and I had decided to go for a long run after my morning garden walk. I checked the temperature outside, and threw on a sweater over my tank. I made a quick peanut butter sandwich to carry me through the next three hours and my run, and headed out the door.
The garden seemed quieter on this day. It’s never busy during that first hour of the walking hours, but I was surprised at how empty it was. Maybe everyone else had a similar reckoning moment beneath the sheets. I didn’t mind. An empty garden is my favorite, although I enjoy the quiet nods from others as we walk.
The sun seemed higher than it should be for September – it was a cloudless morning, and warming quickly as it began. The bees and butterflies were abundant, busy and still in turns.
I almost skipped bringing the camera – sometimes I convince myself that I’ve seen it all before, it hasn’t changed that much since my last walk. And then I’m reminded that it’s always changing, and I find new blooms and colors and views that I’ve missed.
The camera lets me look in different ways. I enjoy the heaviness of it in my hand.
I left my car at the garden and ran for the next hour and a half – to and around a nearby park, and up and down the tree-lined streets of the neighborhood. When I returned to my car the lot was nearly full, the garden fully open, streams of people filing in the doors with sun hats and strollers. I was headed home to smells of breakfast and a warm shower and a pot of coffee just for me, feeling more rested and relaxed than any good snooze button could offer.
