Bruises, scrapes, cuts, sunburn and a blister line the outer layer of skin on my hands and arms. Above my knee, a patch of soreness aches from where I broke bunches of stiff stalks. And inside, muscles I haven’t exercised since the last spring clean-out groan with hurt and unaccustomed exercise. This is an exquisite pain though, one that comes from a week of working outside and performing the physical acts of cleaning the yard and filling forty lawn bags with the remnants of another winter’s wreckage.
The cleaning goes a little slower these days. At 47 years of age, the body doesn’t allow for such brutality and relentless drive. I’ve thrown out my back in years past by not being careful with how I bent down for hydrangea pruning, and I’ve ruined the first week of sunny weather by not guarding against a nasty sunburn. Having learned these lessons the hard way, I know now to be more careful with how I move (bend at the knees and squat, and never make a right angle by bending forward) and how I protect myself (long-sleeved shirts no matter how hot, to protect from sun and scratches).
Even with such precautions, there are war-wounds, but all the aches and bruises make me feel like I’ve done a good day of work. The exhaustion makes for a good night of sleep. And the exertions make for a nice start to the summer to come.
Prior to this one, every year I would think of taking a before and after photo of the clump of fountain grass – a full clump of thick, bamboo-like reeds that is nine feet high and just as wide – and this year I finally did the modern day version of it in time-lapse GIF format. It was so much harder than it looks.
