Every once in a while, I have to get dirty... my nail polish isn't shiny...it begins to chip away...a crescent of dark earth beneath my fingernails. I tore all the summer squash plants out and cut back the tangled mass of culinary herbs, clearing the space for winter kale varieties....essential plant oils rising up to keep me company as I cut and pull them away...lemon balm, oregano catmint and thyme. The basil stays....it will be used up before long in the kitchen anyway and die off on its own. So the bed is cleared and and the earth exposed...bringing a grounded satisfaction similar to the primal one: A bed, in a room...blanketed by folds of soft sheets and exposed skin rather than fallen leaves and earth...getting dirty to quench an altogether different form of sensory need. Yet, to know one, is continuous of the other...the rich moist earth amid the spiral of life and the culmination of appreciating the sweetness of sweat and fluid...watering the roots of desire.
...I'm going back outside!
This song is called "My Brambles"...I've always felt a sort of kinship with brambles...something about the wildness of them, the thorns, flowers, sweet berries and roses....
Sun is dancin', my darlin'
Arms been holding me all mornin'
Sea is so far from home, my darlin'
But if we'd only feet
It is here that we'd roam
O if we'd just two feet
It is here that we'd roam
And your arms would be keeping me all day
O your love calms my brambles
And your hands bring me sweet lavender
O you love clams my brambles
And your hands bring me sweet lavender
The glow will dance into the mountains
Darkness falls upon the canyon
When the heat is gone my darlin'
Please come gather me
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