REALITY & WRITING: Earth Day

Deliciously dirty and achingly tired. Physical labor makes itself known, leaves its marks on the body as it cleanses the soul. Digging in dirt with bare fingers, pulling at weeds or moving more acceptable weeds dubbed officially as flowers, one can’t help but turn brown as the earth. Warm water showers start coffee-stain rivulets running down belly and legs; visually pleasing as well. The dirt, the sweat are gone, the pain replaced by stiffness that’s stifled by soft downy beds. A sense of accomplishment matched by no other for no other is quite as important. Tending to earth as it shall tend to us all in gracious acceptance some day.