Hit by the heat (it was 105 degrees Fahrenheit), I opened the jaw of the vent wider. I watered the lettuces and the children's hopeful log-lined garden plots, twice. I hooked the water wand over the hydrant, ready for next time. And then, I sat on the permanently reclining green chair at the back and just basked in the sun.
When I opened the door to leave, thinking it had been only a few minutes, the temperature dropped about 20 degrees in the open air. Everything looked a bit dim. Two mourning doves took flight. Tiny little blue flowers in the grass shivered under a honeybee's attentions. A squirrel scampered off, interrupted. I had to reorient myself, like coming home from vacation.
On the way back to the house, I took off my flipflops and walked barefoot on the grass.
My husband (let's see, what shall I call him on this blog.....?) has, for the last two months, regularly recommended this treatment - greenhouse time. Somehow, though, once the children are all separated for quiet time, the allure of a snack and a good book drives all thoughts of the outdoors from my mind. I just want to shut down, as quickly as possible, for my own little quiet time.
He was right, though (as he very often is). There is something very physically relaxing about green things and Extreme Sun (it was down to about 90 when I left). It's as if my very pores are hit with tranquilizers, and the effect lingers.
So I spent my time lying in the sun instead of catching up on email or starting supper or crossing something off my to-do list. My chores all still here, none the worse for the wait.
And even away from the sun, my skin still tingles.