The rain was salty from my sweat and deliciously cooling as it ran down my face, under my collar, and down my back while gathering my hair into lengthened ringlets of grey. I had just the last few sweeps to mow and then quickly pulled some puha that was seeding to throw into the hen run. The rain got heavier and heavier as I worked but I couldn’t stop. I grinned from ear to ear, I was enjoying it so much. I could hear it overflowing the shed guttering and running into my garden tank echoing around the irons corrugations pouring out of the down pipe as I passed.
I tipped my head back and tasted its sweetness straight from the heavens. I was glad to be alive, glad to be in the garden and glad to be well. Just a few days before I had listened to the Drs summary, still groggy from the sedation, as he handed me the first stage results. “Nothing untoward”, he said.
While I’d told myself there was nothing to worry about, I had quietly cried when I was alone, thinking of each of the children and possibly not being a part of their futures. I was touched by their tender notes, sensible suggestions and carefully thought out distractions.
As I waited for my appointment, the long, slow weeks ticked by. I watched the garden grow with the hot humid weather and occasional showers, making everything swell and flourish. I couldn’t bear the heat. It sucked every bit of enthusiasm from me. I got books from the library that lay unopened, begging me as I passed. I glanced at their covers for three whole weeks. I wanted to care but didn’t. The note came from the library that they were due, the next to say overdue. Renewed they still sat there. Life was busily empty.
Next day I took a quiet walk around the vege garden and I spied the unwatered seedlings gasping to be planted in the warm wet earth. I had so much to do and waking this morning to a forecast that promised long slow rain was coming, was just what I needed to get going again. Life is Good!