no matter. no matter the day....the doings or the thoughts, at the end of it, there, in the Garden for giving Water, there is Peace.
i squat, holding the hose. Water flowing on and into the heated earth....there is a smell. particular to these days of more than 100 degrees. a smell of the word Fecund. And this is gross, but true. I flashed on memory of the smell of Kotex pads. Soaked in menstrual blood....that you folded and wrapped in some toilet paper and shamefully, placed in the waste basket.
that smell.
heated. warm enough for anything, for Life. I haven't thought of Kotex pads in maybe more than 60 years. But it is distinct. the smell. and the Garden, at the end of these days....somehow similar. ????? i want to linger here.
menstruation. Someday, Emrie will menstruate. Will get her "bleed". Will smell like this Garden.
