Last blog I mentioned sharing with you a time when I got two gifts at once. Here's the story...
The driveway was covered in weeds. It's made of rocks spread-out unevenly on a bed of dirt. It seemed important at the time to be outside a lot, letting them see me, watch me, get to 'know' me. One day I grabbed a claw hammer and sat down and started tackling the weeds mano-a-mano. (I'm a little crazy that way, and any excuse to be outside). I'd work for hours in an area, piling up the weeds... committed to pulling them out by the roots. I'd create a large pile, then I'd wheelbarrow it down to the compost area. This went on for several days. Sometimes I would start working late, as it was July and the evenings were pleasant. I work till dark....and many times, I would feel like I was being watched. I have no doubt it looked pretty comical, a grown woman, sitting on her bottom pulling weeds with a hammer.
Maybe the youngster of the 'family' was enjoying my antics, because one morning I stepped out the back door and noticed something odd. The backdoor area has a cement pad that measures approximately 8ft long by 3ft wide. On the cement were a couple of bricks, an old tin bucket, several yard implements, and a plastic pail that was turned upside down.
On top of that pail was an arrangement of four small weeds. They were freshly picked and not wilted at all, and the roots look like they were washed clean. Huh?
The driveway was covered in weeds. It's made of rocks spread-out unevenly on a bed of dirt. It seemed important at the time to be outside a lot, letting them see me, watch me, get to 'know' me. One day I grabbed a claw hammer and sat down and started tackling the weeds mano-a-mano. (I'm a little crazy that way, and any excuse to be outside). I'd work for hours in an area, piling up the weeds... committed to pulling them out by the roots. I'd create a large pile, then I'd wheelbarrow it down to the compost area. This went on for several days. Sometimes I would start working late, as it was July and the evenings were pleasant. I work till dark....and many times, I would feel like I was being watched. I have no doubt it looked pretty comical, a grown woman, sitting on her bottom pulling weeds with a hammer.
Maybe the youngster of the 'family' was enjoying my antics, because one morning I stepped out the back door and noticed something odd. The backdoor area has a cement pad that measures approximately 8ft long by 3ft wide. On the cement were a couple of bricks, an old tin bucket, several yard implements, and a plastic pail that was turned upside down.
On top of that pail was an arrangement of four small weeds. They were freshly picked and not wilted at all, and the roots look like they were washed clean. Huh?
This is JUST the kind of thing, that makes you scratch your head and wonder if you're going nuts. It's also exactly the kind of subtle thing they do, that you might miss if you are not paying close attention.
Then I looked out over the driveway and saw an impression.
Then I looked out over the driveway and saw an impression.
Anyone who's ever tried to photograph an impression knows how hard it is to do them justice.
There was only one good impression, I searched the area were the next footstep would most likely be given the direction of the impression, but that area was heavily compacted. How many times as researchers do we only find only one good print or impression? It's maddening.
It was such a great gift though, along with the little weeds that had been appeared on the pail.
The funny thing about this research is... You just never know what to 'make' of the things that happen around your home. Which can lead you into many flights of fancy and wild imaginings. Which I refrain from doing. What's true is I don't know why the weeds were on that pail. Or who put them there. I just know they were there. I didn't put them there, and I can't imagine anyone else, (human), in the area putting them there... Why would someone do that? Always -- Always more questions than answers. But you know? There's more aliveness in the questions, than in the grasping and holding onto answers anyway.
And then there's the small footprint impression.... Two great gifts... on the same day. Those are amazing days when they happen. And I feel very blessed.
There was only one good impression, I searched the area were the next footstep would most likely be given the direction of the impression, but that area was heavily compacted. How many times as researchers do we only find only one good print or impression? It's maddening.
It was such a great gift though, along with the little weeds that had been appeared on the pail.
The funny thing about this research is... You just never know what to 'make' of the things that happen around your home. Which can lead you into many flights of fancy and wild imaginings. Which I refrain from doing. What's true is I don't know why the weeds were on that pail. Or who put them there. I just know they were there. I didn't put them there, and I can't imagine anyone else, (human), in the area putting them there... Why would someone do that? Always -- Always more questions than answers. But you know? There's more aliveness in the questions, than in the grasping and holding onto answers anyway.
And then there's the small footprint impression.... Two great gifts... on the same day. Those are amazing days when they happen. And I feel very blessed.
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Warmest regards,
Sybilla