A rare moment of calm and unexpected requirement, I sit in the kitchen with a half hour to spare before the house wakes. The sky gloomy but not sad. A red spider walked by the door, I can be scared but he was friendly and comforting. My one coffee is warm. Traffic is quiet and the nearby road and garden works have completed. My body soaks in quiet like water on dry earth after a drought. Everything feels possible again. I’m still surfing depression, it rides with me always, but I no longer fear it. Sometimes we tolerate each other, sometimes we throw a punch. No longer will I be bullied.
My favourite tree is flirting with me. How I love him. I take a photo of him most weeks, from the same spot, as my reminder that growing, changing, and letting go is perfectly ok. I peeked back at a photo of him hung with snow. It will all be ok. He belongs to my little-known neighbour, me and he met long before they came, and I hope I always know him. I’ve contemplated leaving this house at some point and I’m not sure if I can. Thoughts dwindle. It’s time to wash off the night and step foot into now. We go again. Love from
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.