All the Mother's Day wounded and the rise of he who shall not be named. So much ground covered in a day's work. I managed to put my pale feet on the ground for a while before the sun set. The mosquitoes came to check them out. A squirrel sat on the step outside my bedroom door and made sounds that might have been equivalent to a dog's whine so I brought out sunflower seeds and peanuts. I joined a Zoom call and listened to the people's struggles and observed my reactions and told my self to ease up and managed just to listen and not to speak. Now it's dark, and I'm content to lay down for the night alone. I was feeling low and cooped up and futile and repetitious until this evening. I can't help but think that my bare feet on the good earth has something to do with that shift.
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