Some days you hop-scotch through those 12 hours, like you couldn’t fathom an evil thing in the world. It’s just marshmallows and butterflies from dawn till dusk.
Other days you experience a broad spectrum of trials, emotions and moments that leave you saying to your husband “I just feel like crying right now, so I’m just going to cry, ok? And don’t laugh at me, you turd,” while he rubs your hand and just smiles, knowing these things happen.
And then you cry, and you laugh at how ridiculous life is, and how temporary all that sadness is.
Then you need to get yourself outside to breath a little and focus on something other than whatever it is that you’re thinking about. So you call a friend to go for a sunset hike, and she just happens to be exactly where you’re headed.
So you pack a cider to share, and laugh as you both bushwhack up a hillside because you couldn’t find the trail, and she’s wearing shoes that you just don’t bushwhack in, but she’s a trooper and loves it anyways.
And then you get up to that vista and spend half an hour immersed in it, hunched down in weeds and flowers and bugs and stickers, and your heart is happy and your overly thoughtful brain is quiet.
These moments and days need no explanation aside from the fact that sometimes things build up and the past and present need to be reckoned with and it feels better when it’s done.
And a hillside of weeds washed in summer gold, with a friend and a beer, and a view that doesn’t quit is just the thing to still a worried mind and calm an anxious heart.
© Cayla Vidmar July 30, 2016