He started naming all the brands of 'weed' he likes. I said plant a tree. "I like apple--both white flowering and pink...fruit or non-bearing fruit. I love french lilacs, white, or lavender. Jasmine has a beautiful smell and Colorado Blue Spruce's are a gorgeous color. Roses, yellow tiger lilies, long grasses, in burgandy colors with whisps at the top, tiny purple flowers to liven the rocks, butterfly trees, honeysuckle, and bleeding hearts, so intricate in design--take your pick, or pick them all. What do you want your life to be like? Were you happy with the way you're life was going before you came to prison? What do you want to change, because if there is nothing, I will see you again. We all live with tension--the pull between the forces of life and death--what the physical craves, and what the spirit longs for.
Yesterday evening I walked with my daughter Candace at the capitol grounds. She brought Kiera, her beautiful black border colllie/lab and I brought Tango and Jazz, my "we love the elements Cocker Spaniels." At first they were leashed. My dogs were pulling as we walked. FREE me, FREE me, they tugged.
"Can't we let them go? There is no one else here? Let's let them run." Candace seemed hesitant. I unleashed mine, and they ran to Kiera, showering with dog hugs, kisses and 'let's play' invitations.
The dogs ran against the backdrop of luscious green grass, deepened blue and turning grey and cloudy skies, bordering trees with an array of interesting trunks, some twisting, and winding, some solid, wide and set firmly anchored in an accumulation of years of growth. The air was crisp, and cold for June. Strange, this coldness now--like a person wearing sandles and mittens, this season forgets it's previous presentation.
