WATERING THE WEEDS

WATERING THE WEEDS ©By Russ

I love the smell of water when it hits the hot, dry, ground. There’s something about that smell which reaches a place deep inside of me. It’s much more effective at getting a response from me, than hot buttered popcorn in a movie theater, which nails me everytime I’m fool enough to go. When it gets hot and dusty, and often when it’s not, I’m out on the road watering something. I’ve even just watered the road, scattering the doves, and pigeons, who follow me wherever I go. I’ll just be wandering around, dragging that hose behind me, a middle-aged monkey, with a plastic-coated green tail escaping again from his white picket cage. Emmalie thinks I’m mad, but damned if I can explain to her what it is about that smell, and why I like it so much. I even water my neighbors small flower bed, which grows alongside the road. I‘m saving her a climb up the hill (so I rationalize), but am really giving me more time to play. I water the weeds that hang down over along the raw dirt edge of the empty lot across the lane. The lot is mostly overgrown, with scrub oak, scotch broom, and far too many of the neighbor's cast-off cars. I water all around those cars, encouraging the tall grass, and brush, to speed up their slow march from the back of the lot, to encompass each and every car. Weeds, brush, and wild grass are so much lovelier to look at, than flat tires, camper-shells and big station wagons, with rust spotted >chrome. Emmalie and I would love to own that lot, or both of them, since there are two. And we dream about a two story house that would overlook a gorgeous view, of redwoods, high grassy meadows, and oaks covered in moss. Most dreams never really do come true, but we keep dreaming just the same(and I when I’m watering too). I cut canes from our huge, wild, prim rose during the last heavy rain, and stuck them along the edge of the lane, all in a neat row. They’ve rooted just fine, and like the fast growers that they are, (with all my watering) they’ll soon block my wrecking yard view. We’ve got ‘em surrounded now. ..victory is at hand (if you’re a patient man). And patience is something this disease is teaching me.

Russ.....7-21-98

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