Write about: the wilderness.
We cancelled our trip to Penticton after a night of not much sleep for anybody in the family. Instead we got a couple of things done around the house before dropping off a small restaurant order (eight pounds of cherries) in the afternoon.
Which lead to one of the sous chefs ordering cherries for her own use. Looks like I'll be dropping those off tomorrow afternoon.
Still too early to tell how much damage the rain has done to the cherries remaining on the trees. Might have a better idea by tomorrow night. Fingers still crossed it'll be good news.
It seems so stationary. I have watched it for hours at a time, staring into its depths until my eyes ached, and detected no movement. No signs of advance, no indication that anything is changing.
And yet it draws closer every day. There are mornings that I wake and look out my window and recoil with shock, so much ground has been covered in the night. Thinking that it only dares to approach under cover of darkness, I have shunned my bed, lit bonfires in the yard, and kept watch from dusk until dawn.
Nothing. No knowledge of its workings gained, only sleep lost.
Then I turn away for a moment, lower my guard for a breath, and onward it comes. I fear that it can only be held at bay by my vigilance.
But I cannot do this alone. I must sleep. If only others could see the danger so close at hand. Partners must be recruited, shifts established. The watch must be kept.
I will convince others to join me, or all will be lost to the encroaching wilderness.