Monday, March 05, 2012

Weeds (First Monday)

After a scary stormy Saturday, Sunday was just glorious.  The sun was out; there was a breeze; the temperatures were just cool enough that working in the sun felt wonderfully comfortable. 

Being me, living behind the eight-ball, I had a million things that needed to be done, but I chose to do none of them in favor of sitting out in my yard and pulling weeds (which seem to make up the majority of parts of my yard these days).  I didn't wear gloves and I pulled a black yard bag along behind me.  Some of the weeds weren't nice and stuck my hands with little miniature needles that weren't painful enough to make me stop, but some of them were charming.

Among the charming weeds were some incredibly tiny yellow flowers that grew on a spreading stalk that lay close to the ground.  They weren't the usual daisy-like flowers, but more like microscopic roses.  Added to the wonder was the tiniest bee I'd ever seen going from blossom to blossom like a little hummingbird.  I had to look closely to see if it wasn't actually a humming bird and to be honest, I'm still not sure.  How big are baby hummingbirds?

As I sat there in the grass, pulling my weeds by hand, I was reminded of my grandmother.  After she retired, it seemed that she spent much of her time in the yard doing the same thing.  I never got it back then... how she could spend hours sitting in the grass doing that, but I get it now.  It's so quiet.  It's just you and the earth and the tiny creatures that live in the grass.  There's time for your mind to wander or to think about things or to pray.  I did a bit of all three as I pulled those weeds.  And I thought about my grandmother, who was such a big part of my life and still is, even though she's been gone for nearly twelve years now.  We feel her sometimes.  She shows herself to my husband with feathers.  When he thinks of her, he almost always finds a bluejay feather wherever he is, including inside his car!  As I was pulling the last clump of weeds out by the road, I unearthed a feather - perhaps belonging to an owl. 

I'm thinking of you too, Grandma.  You would have loved Sunday.

So far, only Jill has decided to play First Monday.  If you'd like to do a First Monday post, please link back to this blog and let me know so I can put a link to you here!


Karmyn R said...

I like pulling weeds. It gives me a real sense of satisfaction. Of course - I have to say I only like pulling weeds on nice lovely sunny days.

We spent the weekend doing indoor house projects (which I'm going to blog about when it is completely finished because it will be a worthy post - ha)....but my husband and I were talking about what we remember our parents doing. I don't remember my mom doing inside projects - but she was ALWAYS outside doing yardwork. (and she still does)

Carole said...

Nice blog. You might like this poem about mothers.