There is a big rock in the backyard of my parent's home. My last summer living there, I went to the local nursery and picked out all the flowers that I thought were beautiful (and that I could afford). I surrounded the rock with dahlias, lilies, some purple spidery thing, foxgloves and mums. The outside is lined by yellow and red knockout roses.
The rock is just in the right place where is it completely covered by sun most of the day except at noon, when it is the hottest. Sometimes, when I get really down or stressed out, I take myself out of the snow, the busy street, a honking cab, and put myself on that rock. I don't have any shoes on because you just don't do that in the South. I stretch my arms and legs as far they'll go, letting the sun warm every piece of me it can get to. And then I do nothing. I lay there, and I smile, and I drink in the warmth and the flowers and the stillness of it all.
The rock is just in the right place where is it completely covered by sun most of the day except at noon, when it is the hottest. Sometimes, when I get really down or stressed out, I take myself out of the snow, the busy street, a honking cab, and put myself on that rock. I don't have any shoes on because you just don't do that in the South. I stretch my arms and legs as far they'll go, letting the sun warm every piece of me it can get to. And then I do nothing. I lay there, and I smile, and I drink in the warmth and the flowers and the stillness of it all.
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