hiatus

I spent the day coated in freshly turned dirt, sinking my fingers deep beneath the darkened soil. I kneaded the earth like a prized loaf, its recipe secret and guarded and passed down through generations.

I sat on my front porch with coffee and an unfamiliar notebook; the pen in my hand awkward at first, but eventually loosened and graceful. I drove to town and fulfilled long overdue errands. I held Eva’s hand as we traded jokes. The sun never left us, not once.

Make no mistake, I love where I live. I’m all for the four seasons, the mysterious ways they slide into one another. I love watching winter awaken into spring, the way summer bleeds into fall…. But we suffered a six month winter this year, and I don’t choose that verb lightly. My house began to feel like a prison, this laptop my ball and chain. It does awful things to a person, to go months buried beneath piles of snow. It looks deceptively light, but it’s dangerously dead weight.

If this hasn’t all been a dream, if the good weather is finally here to stay, I plan to repeat this all tomorrow. Stories that beg to be shared, anecdotes that need to be recorded, will have to settle for the confines of my head. I just don’t feel like blogging about life. I feel like living it instead.