As I sit in my NBF’s backyard, on her fancy deck, and sip my tea while listening, literally, to the wind in the willow – and the maples – I feel blanketed by a sense of calm. I’m watching the branches blow in the breeze and I’m wondering if BoyGenius has climbed that willow tree yet. I’m listening for the birdsongs competing with the rustling leaves and can make out mourning doves, robins, phoebes, a cardinal and the cluck of some grackles – all over the song of the buzz saw from up the street.
I’m thinking: I should get me something like this. A “retreat.” HA! My yard is half the size of this one and my deck doesn’t have room for the cushy furniture. Never mind fitting a weeping willow in somewhere. And then I’m thinking, wondering: where do I go to escape, to retreat? Where is my oasis?
I don’t know about you all, but I tend to go into my head. Of course it would be a much better escape if it was empty. There’s always talk, talk, talk. Sure, sometimes it’s me who starts the conversation but I can’t be held responsible for all of it. I find that in my head I get to say whatever I want to say to whomever I choose. And you know what? They always tell me what I want to hear in the end. There may be some disagreement along the way, that other voice pointing out potential problems and brick walls I’m going to hit, but all in all, things get worked out. The trouble with that is that sometimes I just want quiet. Stillness. Time away.
Where do you go to escape? For some it’s a backyard oasis, for some others it’s running cross-country. Hiking in the woods, laying on a beach, locking the door to the bathroom. I would love to be able to retreat to the woods or the beach. Lay on the dock enjoying the sun while the dragonflies hover close by. Fall asleep on the shore listening to the crashing of waves. I don’t often get that chance. There’s always BG to think of – it’s not really possible to nap on the beach when you have to keep watch over the offspring. So like I said, I take off into my head. It’s kind of neat, because I am able to do it at any given time. While doing laundry, cooking, falling asleep, mowing the lawn. Sometimes I find cool things in there, hidden away where no one would think to look. One I found the other day goes something like this:
If I could write a love letter
I know exactly what I’d say:
to me you grow more beautiful
with every passing day.
I wouldn’t think that would be enough
so I might also have to mention
how whenever I am with you
you ease all my stress and tension.
How I never thought I’d love someone
the way that I love you
and if I had the chance to show it
I know just what I would do.
I’d shout it from the rooftops
in a voice so loud and clear
there could be no doubt, no question
that to me you are most dear.
I’d live each day as if my time
with you were near to end;
I’d fill your needs, I’d calm your fears;
to your every wish I’d tend.
I would capture how I feel
and put it neatly in a song;
it would shoot to number 1 so fast
you’d hear it all day long.
I’d never let you wonder
if my love for you is real;
I’d tell you twenty, thirty times a day
exactly how I feel.
I’d bring you gifts, I’d make you laugh,
I’d cook your favourite foods.
I’d let you know that in your eyes
I can read your changing moods.
I’d ask you if you’d marry me
though I know that there’s no way.
I’d make sure you knew that if you did
I’d still ask you every day.
I’d try my best to make you feel
the fullness in my soul;
To clarify the fact that
you’re the one who makes me whole.
I’d gaze at you so often
just to memorize your face.
And if you ever needed time,
you know I’d also give you space.
I’d do your dishes and your laundry;
clear the clutter from your table.
I’d kiss you, snuggle and caress
every moment I was able.
So if I could write a love letter
and get all this out; a kind of release
it might help you understand that in the puzzle that’s my life
you are the final piece.
There. I escaped for a little bit.