Arise

Sun mounts the hill and looses its roar, gloating hungrily over quiet houses in the valley. You wake to hunger. The running stream is full of fish. Let down your net of sunbeams for a catch. The trees overflow with birds, sucking into wet pools of shadow underneath. We drown in their music.

Feels like I have my brain back today, somewhat. This always happens when I call the psychiatrist, as if the gesture of need finds help in myself. She hasn't had any cancellations yet this week, so no openings. If one comes, I'll still go.

The bad news on the home front is, the woman upstairs has snuck back with all her children. The really, really good news is that the central air conditioning is working properly for the first time in, oh, five years. The serviceman was working in the basement when I did my laundry yesterday. I can't express how grateful I am. I actually have to turn off this fan now; it's too cool.

Today while typing up minutes of a staff meeting, I discover someone suggested approaching me to sit on the board of Two Rivers. This is not a dream. No one has actually said anything yet, although someone asked whether I would sit on a committee overseeing summer camp staff. I wonder whether that's why Heather had me do the typing. I'm flattered, but really would like a paying job rather than more volunteer responsibility.

I come home and work on the first drawing for the Denver show. It's a cross between my waterspout series and the one I did last week, considerably darker. I'm taking more time than usual: leaving it, going back, savouring the process.

At dinnertime I escape for a while to the Eramosa River and soak in the fragrance of dame's rocket (Hesperis matronlis), spreading purple haze along the banks. This modest flower is herb-robert, Geranium robertianum.