Dreams of fire in a vegetable garden

Gardening.

Yes, gardening.

I actually really like it. To plant something, and take care of it, through good and bad weather, so that eventually you will harvest something or other.

Today is sunny and as dry as it will ever get in this island, and I really hate it.

It reminds me of my grandparents house, of hunting in the summer, of the smell of the heat, of things past and things gone.

Give me the shitty rain and fog that you get most days here.

But not this.

In days like this I remember too much.

I remember the fire in my lungs and the heat in my heart.

I remember hunting and being hunted, in the gone days of fire.

The taste of the chase.

Being utterly and completely alive.

The dog touches my knee, gently, with her nose, just to wake me up.

Must have been daydreaming for a big while, the sun traveled a lot, the clouds have covered the afternoon sky.

My bones hurt like the're in a vice, it will rain soon.

I smile.

A big open smile.

No need to water the vegetable garden today.

And no more dreams of fire.

Just sweet oblivion, cool and inviting.

And dinner.

I go in the house, to take a shower.

The dog follows, to eat and chew something.

The dreams of fire stay, planted in the vegetable garden.

Waiting for the rain.

To grow and be harvested.