I
felt so claustrophobic even in my own house, windows
dressed in heavy drapes always kept closed and not a plant in sight.
It
was clean, not a speck of dust, yet I couldn’t breathe. So
when I was finally able to leave, I felt free. Going
outside, even for a short walk would be refreshing. I
found an old frock, a floral print. No black widow’s weeds for me.
My
knees would never let me hike in the nearby hills, but on the even
path through the park
I’d have no trouble. If I tired, I could sit on a bench, but for
now the blossoming trees and the scents of new spring flowers called
to me.
Tiny birds flitted
from daffodils to daisies,
flying
the way I felt I was even with my feet on the ground.
Squirrels looked my way, then scurried off, up the nearest tree, and
I laughed.
When
was the last time I’d done that?
The shoots of green grass formed
a carpet. I should have brought a blanket to sit or lie on, but the
grass was more inviting
than any bench.
I
stretched
out on one sun-drenched section and lay
there for a while, more
relaxed than I’d been in ages.
I woke, not knowing how long I’d slept, but
the sun had begun it’s descent. I sighed and stood, with a bit of
effort, and walked back towards the house, grateful
for a few hours in the fresh air.
Tomorrow I'll pull down the drapes and throw open the windows. Maybe
I’ll take a trip in a few weeks. I’d always wanted to go to the Orient or Hawaii
or maybe Australia, somewhere far away. And now I can.
