Paganocity

"And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death"  -- from Pink Floyd's "Time"

I have given up trying to tame the thicket out back for the moment.  My my time is so filled with obligations to the world of Homo Sapiens and the season is so hot and dry, I have not the heart to give my plants more than the briefest evening visits recently.  A second flush of flowering Mustards is head high, while those golden pods I wrote of before stand dry and brown.  Their leaves wilt yellow and their brown seeds are spilling out over the cracked Earth faster than I can collect them.  I console myself by thinking how glad I will be to see the seedlings that must later spring from those lost seeds, and by popping open a few pods to chew the pungent, spicy seeds each time I go out.  I run my fingers through the feathery leaves of the Fennels that shelter under those dying stems, inhale their sweet spice, and remember how to breathe.  Even in neglect, my garden helps me to escape Time for a blissful, non-measured moment.  How much I need these moments, to keep me from being buried under the weight of Time which is measured, Time which has quantity.

I am proud to report that I managed to roast that Chicken for dinner tonight, the one that I meant to cook on Tuesday but had not the energy by the time I returned from work.  The fresh Rosemary inside the body cavity gave it the most wonderful flavor.  (Sorry, vegan and veggie friends, but I trend towards underweight and I need me some good protein and fat.  I don't feel that animals were put here to feed me, but I do not find evil in consuming another life form to feed myself, as per my nature.)  Fresh salads from the Farmer's Market, topped with my own Nasturtium flowers, and I dare say I feel a bit renewed.  I'll catch up with that Sun yet.