Every morning, my body finds itself waking up a lot earlier than everybody else. Not to disturb anyone I slowly roll out of bed and find myself sitting in my common room on an ottoman with my cat, looking out the window. The grass is so green every morning because the sun is hitting it just right and it’s so high up in the sky that it’s gleaming down through the windows and the trees making good little sunray puddles for my cat to sit in and sunbathe in. Sometimes if it’s raining or had rained the night before, I can see the water flowing into the storm drain beneath my window all the grass around it is a lot more wet and dewey. The pinecones are open today which means it’s a warm and dry day, I’m sure I’ll be seeing squirrels playing pass around with them soon. The two trees outside my window face each other and pull my attention into the middle where when each person walks it seems like a garden hitch or a wedding altar is above them. I don’t know for sure but I imagine their roots are intertwinted somewhere undernesth the mulch and soil. I like to think they’ve been holding each other for quite some time. The small pink leaves at the ends of each stringy branch fall into the same place creating a pile on the ground, almost like a pretty version of a leaf pile sized for small creatures. Little brown birds with blue chests like perching themselves on the thicker branches. I often get to enjoy their singing in the mornings but sometimes I wake up too late and miss it, at that point they only chirp when another bird finds itself on the tree with them.
Sitting here, I can feel the warmth on top of my head and the tips of my ears from the sun, it shines onto my jewelry and creates little shimmers for my cat to follow. His eyes moving back and forth in the sunlight are almost the same color as the dandelions outside. I get reminded of him when I see them moving in the wind and for some reason can’t help but love the little weeds. I’ve slowly seen them transform over the course of my time here, sitting in my window, day after day. Small green buds that resemble asparagus while growing, turn into these gorgeous bright yellow dandelions, then get withered away and sulk for a few days. The buds become dry, fluffy, and white. They’re soft to the touch yet very fragile. I love blowing them out like birthday candles. They are as weak as can be, where even a light flow of wind from a person’s pants will blow some off. But those fluffs have seeds within them that fall and grow more bright yellow dandelions, and the cycle will just keep continuing. Not every morning but some, when I catch myself admiring his eyes and the dandelions, I am reminded that life isn’t always as it seems. Each day is a little different, just as each day a new dandelion has either sprouted or disappeared, only for a moment. The dandelions just needed a second to recuperate. even if they sulk, wither, dry, or fall. Wherever they land they will regrow, one step at a time, and the cycle will just keep continuing. No matter how frail I feel or what stage I’m at in my life, I will always plant more seeds as I go and have the chance to grow again.
