• Walking on two legs is hard Being a human being is hard Being alive is the hardest thing there is And she is right. Alice, too, finishes her story: That night I dream I am dancing to Stevie Wonder's song "Always" (the name of the song is really "As," but I hear it as "Always"). As I dance, whirling and joyous, happier than I've ever been in my life, another bright-faced dancer joins me. We dance and kiss each other and hold each other through the night. The other dancer has obviously come through all right, as I have done. She is beautiful, whole and free. And she is also me. (Walker 393) I do not know what the future holds for me, ifl will ever make peace with my own self, but I do know that for the first time in my life, I have been shown, not once, but three times, that my mark might be a gift. Perhaps I have been given a covenant by those whose footsteps I follow in, by those who have taught me. And I see for the first time that the other dancer might be myself This year I planted flowers where the vegetables grew. There are enough leafy greens, legumes, brassicas, and root crops to nourish me through the year. I have even established a small bed of carrots among the blue iris, which will open soon. But this is the year of blooming. Marigolds and sunflowers will adorn every bed. Already the strawflowers, poppies, and daisies are eager to take their places. Even the random violets and wild geraniums are tolerated. If it has color it is welcome. Welcome spicate chrysanthemum, milled columbine, daffodils like tiny cups and saucers, primrose powderpuffs, the sticky fragrant nicotiana, alyssum, cosmos, bridal-white spirea, welcome budding lilacs, bleeding heart, welcome fragile lilies, tulips, foxglove, gladiolus spears, gentle morning glory, new and wild roses. Welcome. Welcome to this season, the season I surround myself with life, abundant flowering life. This year, as far as the eye can see-beauty.
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filii #21