Wednesday, August 17, 2022

Wednesday

Don't you admire people who can spin between many sets of good friends nimbly, all in the course of a few hours? I know people like that! They seamlessly flow from one person to the next, always keeping a concerned and attentive ear to the other's life stories, always happy to be in the thick of any social orbit.

I'm less adept at this. My idea of solid friendship is to keep meetings down to never more than one in a day, with the remaining hours being spent on mulling over what they said, what I said, how it all plays out in our lives, and what I learned about myself in the process. I'll think about an upcoming meeting while clipping flowers in the morning...




(I could do without the grasshoppers...)



(Do you see why I love phlox? When the lilies end their run, the phlox sticks around for several more weeks!)



(one of the last groups, by the secret path...)



I may discuss it with Ed over breakfast...




And I stay with it even after I left the friend's home (stopping maybe at a nearby bakery for bread for Ed)...




Still, I am in a week that belongs to others. Heck, I'm in a day that belongs to others! I'm minding the travels of Polish friends who are slowly meandering toward Madison. I am helping plan a trip of other friends coming here soon. I am paying close attention to a person who has a family funeral this week. And, I spent the morning with a friend, a long retired colleague who reached out after reading Like a Swallow. He has not a small amount of drama in his life right now and we spent a very beautiful several hours on his front porch reflecting on the directions life has taken us. 

I don't have pics of this because, well, you don't take out your camera when your friend has drama in his life. But I did think that there was something very lovely about sipping a milky coffee, perfectly made and paired with a scone out there on his front porch. People who have porches or front steps don't use them often enough. To me these places are like a cafe -- a window onto the world, a buffer against the cruelties of life, because as you talk, or listen, you realize that we are all in our own way struggling against strong tides and currents and it's nice to remember that your insane issues most likely pale when compared, say, to that person's over there, the one who just walked by with a deep frown on her lovely face.


And now the day is nearly done and Ed and I are working out in the back fields of the farmette and I clear my head, getting ready for another day of... friends. It is the month for them. And honestly, I'm good with that. So long as it's spaced. With quiet moments in between.




With love...