Welcome to May, the 2014 version. Now write something that has to do with: careful what you wish for.
Inspired by Greg's comment on yesterday's post, much to my character's chagrin...
We managed to get almost all of our onions into the garden this morning. Things were slowed a little by temperatures reaching toward 30 degrees (officially it hit 27, though I would be surprised if it wasn't hotter here), but it was still a good start.
In the afternoon I took a drive to our local farm supply store to pick up some organic fertilizer and diatomaceous earth.
Because those cutworms are going to die. Tonight, preferably.
I am free at last. There is real, live vegetation brushing against my legs as I walk. Coconut water still lingers on my lips, my tongue, my throat. I can feel it in my belly, moving with me in a comforting way that the sea never did.
As to how I got here... I am not proud. Utterly necessary, without question, but I do not wish to think on it. The lies, the sneaking about. Getting caught, sliced throats and blood pooling on the deck. Not my finest moment.
But I am here. That is what matters. That is all that matters. I am alive and on solid earth once more. Where I belong. Island or mainland, I cannot possibly care.
The past is behind me and will stay there. I must keep my eyes forward. No time for looking back. Enjoy the feel of this tree against my fingers. Allow the birdsong to caress my eardrums. Breathe deep the smell of wet earth and flowering plants and... cooking meat?
What's this? A clearing up ahead. A bonfire burning bright. People seated around it, each one very nearly naked. How strange. I should change course.
But that aroma keeps pulling me forward...