Attending To My Environment

Rochelle W.'s picture

The air feels like the snap of a pea, or a sharp knife going straight through a head of iceberg lettuce this evening. The longer I stay inside of if the more I enjoy it. The bees are not here anymore. Maybe they are finished with the tree wearing the coat of vines, or maybe they don't like the cut of the knife. Without the bees, and without the breeze the backyard of the English House is much more still than it was last week. Except for the trees shedding death. Also, I am much taller than I was last week. Standing on one of the long benches beside the picnic table I try and face the trees without arching my neck backward. But although I am taller today, there is still an arch in my neck.

When I came to the backyard of the English House today I didn't feel very much like attending to my environment, I felt more like attending to myself. I kept looking at the ground and only thinking about me. But I was aware I was doing this, so I made myself change, and by the end I was able to be more outwardly focused.

Groups:

Comments

Post new comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.
randomness