after all the thoughts and bombarding emotions over the morning that shook me out of my bed much earlier than i would have preferred, i took another long ride. the rides always help me breathe. i change my mind a million times but my legs are still moving, and i reach where i need to be and pull my pen out of my bag. it’s an assignment to keep delving, keep pushing myself line by line. i am by the window, and every few minutes a new idea comes in but i maintain the movement of the pen. i finally emerged and it was raining. like my home, there will always be rain even when i am wearing sunglasses. i arrived to pick up my zucchini and cucumber starts and my hair was damp but on two wheels, lookin and feelin just so, music in my ears, i’m good. spending the afternoon sitting in the driveway, planting more sunflowers i started by seed and finding homes for the new starts, and it rains, and i keep going. i plunge my hands into a bowl of strawberries and rhubarb and i scoop them into the dough, pressing along the edges as i shape them into hand pies. my legs covered with dirt and my hands stained red with berry, i find my way under the warm water and i am breathing as i should.