Writing

 

 




 

The Conversation

The thunderstorm was pending. A few spinach leaves had yellowed from last week's rain. The kale was tough and can't be eaten raw - at least the leaves I had at lunch. The window is about an hour it feels like from the humidity based on a couple hundred of these days through my life. Bob Marley showed up on my shuffle. 

There are nine planters each about three feet by a foot. They were outside my pandemic home office - I watched the sparrows come each day and grab a few leaves. Being North American it took a while to accept their free-taking.  

I sit my middle age body on the deck proud that it still bends but wishing that the stretching book I bought in the '90's had been on the top of my reading pile. I chose an 'H' pencil from my drawing kit as what was before me was neither dark nor light and the moment arrived. 

What moment?

Well, The Moment. The one(s) where we live or not. 

There was much waiting indoors - netfix, cable, refrigerator, laptop...and there was that black cloud which could impose its will at anytime. Why start anything?

Oh and the loneliness, too. It is really longing but we have been lied to. That this moment should be somehow more social, in another local or more energetic. The energy really was all around this instance (all instances) - the sky and the air just made it more apparent tonight. 

Not sure how long the drawing took. The trance was only broken by the few drops of rain, once. It is not much to look at as it was not made as an object but as a conversation which are mostly benign but below the surface meaningful. The planters' occupants said many things. Our discussion: it is like a mother tongue you only use with an elderly relative. The understanding comes back with use.

How did we learn each word? 

This garden time was much like a meeting. Each member has some unique take on the common gathering point. It was my turn to take notes - they all had excellent points. At the end, we achieved a sort of consensus. Tried to keep my nose out of it but artistic license as they say. So there is another drawing in the world.  

They did not give an opinion on if their time was due. Some looked old and ready to move on. A few were young and likely wanted things to stay as they are but they could see our fate. So I picked from the tangled mass who looked alive with great care. 

There were a few seeds left from Spring so I planted them in the barrenness. The second crop is not the same, they grow up in the season of too much - so they often wilt. 

I moved the tomatoes and cucumber pots as it looked like hail. There were a few stones but nothing too harmful. Things cooled down for the night.

There were a few lines which came to me later which are on the back of the drawing but not all prayers should be public. 

Drawing is titled:
'The Conversation'
pencil on paper
81/2 x 11 inches
July 3, 2020
by Kelly Leichert

Story above also by Kelly Leichert