A day like any other

Random words: bellybutton, stampede, unicorn, turquoise, hairbrush, tuxedo, mummy, lattice, pensive, tank.

It was just another day, just like any other.  A unicorn stampede and a mummy in a tuxedo passed me on the road outside of Cairo.  I didn’t even know there were unicorns in Egypt.  I thought they were strictly a Bavarian myth kind of thing.  And why was the mummy wearing a tuxedo?  Was this some kind of reverse anachronism?  Anyway, no pensive bellybutton gazing for me.  I was in my used tank (you’d be surprised how cheap they are on eBay!) on my way to the pyramid.  I had just dyed my hair turquoise and needed to buy a new hairbrush.  I entered the pyramid through the lattice gate.  The Pharaoh greeted me chillily, but I didn’t care.  I wasn’t there to make nice.  I just wanted to get in and out with my new hairbrush.  Well, wouldn’t you know it, but the unicorn and the mummy were there too.  So I bought them all a drink, including the Pharaoh, and that’s how it all started.

My garden

Random Words: Pen, springboard, garden, meteor, logjam, fertilizer, herb, horizon, footprint, chessboard.

My garden spread out before me.  It was a small garden bordered by a high grayish brown fence on three sides.  I could not see the horizon with all the neighbors’ houses so close to my own.  But the garden was green and it was mine. I loved to sit out on the porch in the mornings drinking my coffee, a springboard to my day.  My garden both relaxed me and energized me.  It was mostly a flower garden, but there were also raspberry bushes.  Oh how I love raspberries.  The bushes never grew enough berries at one time to make homemade jam, but you could eat them right off the bush to your heart’s content.  No herb plants though.  I still can’t grow herbs for long.  They just keep dying on me.  I don’t have a green thumb.  My garden was actually someone else’s altogether.  I was just a temporary caretaker, living in the house less than two years.  What a logjam of memories from such a short period of time.  That garden was probably the best part of those years, and I didn’t even create it.  It is still a fertilizer for my mind.  The utter stillness in all that growth.  My pen stops as I remember the light.  I always remember the light.  It was a cool blue light most times, lying in the shadows.  During the heat of the day, it was a steamy bright yellow.  Of course, I’m speaking of the summer months when the garden was redolent with green spicy notes hanging in the heavy air, filled so lushly with undergrowth that not one footprint was ever visible.  The winding stone path meandered around haphazardly and half hidden.  Every time I walked it, I would see something new, some flower or leaf I had not seen before.  It felt like an endless discovery.  One time, I found a jack in the pulpit!  There were so many different greens in the garden, it was like a shifting chessboard of crayola colors shimmering before you. My time there was so short.  It was like a meteor in my life, there for an instant and then gone.  I’m not even sure it existed.  But I will remember it always.