greenstorm (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greenstorm) wrote2022-04-03 08:24 am
greenstorm) wrote2022-04-03 08:24 am
Entry tags:
Underwater
Tucker is gone. Airports are done, driving is done, watering plants that had gone dry is done. I'm here, home.
I'm alone in this space: unconnected. I'd predicted imperfectly what that meant. Now I remember. I'm back in my own world.
It's like being underwater: not drowning, but like slipping into a warm lake on a warm evening as the sun sets. The laws of physics are different. My body is supported. Everything is a different colour, more golden, more green. Everything seems more possible but slower. The evidence of humans is distant and distorted.
Already I barely remember what people are or why I would care.
Instead my peppers are ripening and I should make a vinegar or vodka sauce with them, there aren't enough to ferment. Tomatoes are blooming and I should make crosses. There are peppers to pot up inside and the ground is moslty snow-free outside; I should fence off the berry patch and seed clover into it. I need to sort out the geese. My home is become my mind once again.
While I was gone the ravens broke open boxes of ziploc bags the grocery store gave me along with their spent produce and they scattered the bags across my entire yard, thousands of them. The store had also discarded some foil baking pans and they brought those into the far back and punctured them. I'd thought the non-edibles would be safe but they were not. Also there are hundreds of styrofoam ramen bowls and the little plastic packets from inside them, and milk cartons everywhere.
The pigs need to be moved to drier land.
More shelves need to be set up for plants.
And I need to exist here for a little while, just exist.
I'm alone in this space: unconnected. I'd predicted imperfectly what that meant. Now I remember. I'm back in my own world.
It's like being underwater: not drowning, but like slipping into a warm lake on a warm evening as the sun sets. The laws of physics are different. My body is supported. Everything is a different colour, more golden, more green. Everything seems more possible but slower. The evidence of humans is distant and distorted.
Already I barely remember what people are or why I would care.
Instead my peppers are ripening and I should make a vinegar or vodka sauce with them, there aren't enough to ferment. Tomatoes are blooming and I should make crosses. There are peppers to pot up inside and the ground is moslty snow-free outside; I should fence off the berry patch and seed clover into it. I need to sort out the geese. My home is become my mind once again.
While I was gone the ravens broke open boxes of ziploc bags the grocery store gave me along with their spent produce and they scattered the bags across my entire yard, thousands of them. The store had also discarded some foil baking pans and they brought those into the far back and punctured them. I'd thought the non-edibles would be safe but they were not. Also there are hundreds of styrofoam ramen bowls and the little plastic packets from inside them, and milk cartons everywhere.
The pigs need to be moved to drier land.
More shelves need to be set up for plants.
And I need to exist here for a little while, just exist.