Have you ever started off a day full of hope and promise only to crawl back into bed feeling like a limp ineffectual dishrag? Better yet, a limp ineffectual dishrag that's been wrung out and reused so many times it's been tossed in the garbage? That pretty much describes my Sunday ... for many reasons which I don't care to recall.
But before I descend into the bowels of darkness, I'd like to dwell for a moment on what might have been.
As I awoke to a clear blue Sunday sky, birds were chirping, sunshine shined, and all appeared right with the world. I left the house silently cheering tolerable heat and humidity, actually looking forward to watering my garden. It was the first morning in quite a while I can remember not wanting to hose myself down. That in itself was reason to celebrate.
With temperatures in the triple digits, my garden isn't exactly the pride of the neighborhood. Many plants are already showing signs of late August -- scorched leaves, dried up blooms, and nibble marks from desperate animals. I figure they have to be desperate because they've ruined plants untouched in the past. For what reason I cannot imagine. The plants don't look particularly tasty. I can't even joke about something in the drinking water because water levels are so low, Maryland authorities may issue restrictions. I'm doing my part by watering manually, which, to some degree, accounts for the "brownage."
It also comes with notable sacrifice. In one area too private to specify, I have over 12 mosquito bites within a three-inch radius. That's a heavy price to pay for environmental consciousness. Those nasty buggers sure know how to go to town.
Anyway, there I was becoming one with the foliage, enjoying the sights and sounds of an otherwise empty and quiet backyard. Insect legs rubbed together, beginning softly then exploding in a group crescendo. Birds chirped as they headed toward the sound of rushing spray. Some ventured close enough to enjoy splash-off from the greenery. I stood as still as a scarecrow, gently encouraging them to partake. One bird accepted gingerly, all the while locking her one-eyed gaze in my direction.
So calming, quiet and idyllic, I returned home feeling like I could conquer the world. Alas, it was not meant to be.
Details forthcoming tomorrow ...