The Roars In My Life

I chipped away at this wall for two days.   Someone else started it for me.  I finished it.

I was excited to get the job done.  Picturing it the way it is going to look.

While I’m chip chip chipping something occurred to me.  There was a point in time when someone stood there, putting the cement on the wall, applying the bricks carefully.   Probably anticipating what it would look like.  And feeling a sense of accomplishment when it was done.

Then I tear it all down.

Feeling good when it is done.  I accomplished something, finished this task.

Big old circle of life.

Call me Simba.

Then we finished up the work for the day, David and I.   We locked up and loitered on the porch.  It was raining.  I would say it was raining ferociously.  We waited, and waited…to no avail.  It did not stop or let up.  We were both surprised at the power of this rain.  But while sitting there on top of some old, rolled up carpet that was piled on top of some health care binders I got a sense of future rainy days.   It will be a good porch for that.  Sitting on a rocking chair, or an adirondack chair, cup of tea, or coffee, toast.   Book.  Not touching any of it but being lulled by the rain to just look at it.  Watch it hit the ground and explode back up with the millions of splashes the drops are making.

I felt bad that the little lady who did live here, couldn’t sit on her porch any more.  She misses it.

I can see why.

Some day someone will chip away at all of the work we are doing now.   By then, I’ll be Mufasa, someone else will be Simba.