It is All the Same, Yet it is Not

Each year I wander about my world, taking pictures, searching, enjoying – each year it is the same, yet it is not. This year the growing green things seem taller, seem more vivid, seem fuller.

Last year? Did I think everything was the same as the year before, or did I think everything was taller, more vivid, fuller? Is everything the same, or is it different? It’s all a matter of perception and memory, isn’t it?

This morning, as I have my coffee and watch my world outside my window, I note that the baby swallows have left the camera house – the camera is still there, but it has not worked this year. That is different. The baby bluebirds have apparently left their house, as their parents have not been around for a few days. In other houses, the flurry of swallows hovering nearby indicate there are babies ready to venture out into this big world. Activities remain the same, the timing may be a little different. Earlier this year, perhaps.

Today it is sunny, a nearly perfect early summer day. Today I’ll go out and mow the grass, before the rains that are to come tomorrow. While I mow, my mind will wander. Probably it’ll wander to the things I need to get done during the next couple of days. The bedrooms that are largely unused by humans most of the year now need to be readied for the kids. The Kat will be here Tuesday night or Wednesday morning – her room tends to collect “things” during the months she is not here. Those “things” need to be put into a proper home and dusting and vacuuming needs to happen. Not to mention rewashing the bed sheets because my clothesline opted to break while the sheets were hanging on it. I tried.

How is it, I wonder, that when we moved here nearly 14 years ago, we had so much extra space. We didn’t have the garage yet, but we had all these wonderful closets and cupboards, and empty spaces! Now? Not so much. That’s why that bedroom collects “things”. How is it I have the winter blankets from our bed, but they seem to have no place to rest during the summer, so they end up as some of the “things” in that bedroom. Is it possible that I have a bit of “hoarder” in me? Time, once again, to sort, to make piles for Goodwill. Or the burn pile.

Like pillows. I save pillows. I deem a pillow unfit for sleeping on and replace it with a new pillow. So why on earth do I save the old pillow? What possible use can I think I might have for it?

Who knows what else I might find when I start looking. It could be interesting. That is a job Kat will help me with when she is here – I know this, because she will be bringing things to store here while she is in Korea, and we will need to make room for those things. The bad part of this is she may start to wonder about her mother’s sanity when we discover the odd things that have been saved. There is that possibility.

Then again, she probably already knows her mother’s sanity left a long time ago. And that’s just fine. I have enough. Why would I need sanity?