I guess I should use that word very carefully, however, I truly haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened yesterday. A neighbor had a full table set for people to take bunches of Autumn Joy home to clip and plant to start little garden patches of their own!
Isolation feelings of quarantine have got me dipping in and out of dissociation. As my sister says, “Dissociation is one hell of a drug…” But I am yearning on a cellular-level for the days when it will be realistic to go out freely again.
This table– piled stuuuupid high with Autumn Joy– gave me an odd, reflective glimpse into that world. A post-quarantine time. Where I hopefully will still be doing the hobbies I have picked up, and continuing to spend so much important time with my daughter. It felt strange and fun to be welcomed up onto a neighbor’s porch, instead of shuddering 6 feet away and leaning even further. A hand-written sign told me how to trim the stem and plant the plants, so that next year, this plant will grow for me, too.
For a minute, I had a feeling–excitement even, maybe? That next year–NEXT YEAR–I could do this. I could be the one sharing these curated plants, clipped from my garden, helping people start their own.