I am always thinking about the meaning of life, the meaning of hoovering, even the meaning of cooking. Sometimes I even think about the meaning of writing a blog every day, probably because it is there. This morning I almost had a breakdown, I had nothing to think about. On Monday I had cleaned the widows, Tuesday the bathroom and doors, Wednesday the kitchen and shower, there was nothing left to do. Of course these are daily tasks on the side, but the detailed process also takes place once a week. I then stopped to think, why? Is there a deep transitional movement hidden in the shadows of my destiny. I am programmed, is there perhaps an ethereal power that decides to gear my thought process. What shall I do, there was a bottomless pit beneath my pensive thoughts It was an eternal void to infinity, but there must be more to life than just being there and doing it all. I decided action was the answer to this pit of doubts and boredom and the fresh air would do me good and bring me to another interllectual level.
It was time to take a walk in the garden with my camera bringing my thought to another junction, like a train following the rails and now and again stopping at stations to let thoughts to embark and disembark. I was shooting various views of my hostas with the camera. They are also following their path in life, growing and expanding. When I observed the results of my photography, I noticed something on one of the photos.
I am sure you can see them, two bare feet poking from beneath the hosta leaves. Someone was hiding, perhaps a lost creature searching for a home, somewhere to be loved and looked after. On the other hand it could be a threat to my existence. Whatever it was had moved into my garden with intentions. I decided to take another look.
The feet had disappeared. That could not be. My thoughts were confused. Whatever this threat to my existence was, could move. Perhaps it was only taking a walk around the garden, to keep its circulation alive. They were bare feet that I saw, and it must have been cold for this creature on the bare stones surrounding my hosta plantation. I read somewhere that there were suspicions of life existing on another planetary system. Perhaps this was an invasion. Undaunted I proceeded with my investigations in the garden. It was thenI heard a rustling between the hosta leaves. I was not longer debating the meaning of just life, but my life. You never know what is lurking in the garden. Last week I saw a slug barring its 300 teeth sharpening them on a stalk. There are dangers beneath every leaf.
I heard a laugh, something resembling one of those laughs you hear when visiting a fun fair on the ghost train. It was hollow, with a whining echo, it was laughing at me. I decided it was now or never, and looked in the direction of the noise and then I saw it. Bright beady eyes looking in my direction, sunk into its bulging cheeks, pale and firm. It was laughing, it had a smirk on its face, it was making a fool of me. It was then I heard a deep voice and footsteps approaching.
“I hope you don’t mind but I though I would shift our garden dwarf to a differnt place amongst the hostas. You seemed to be sunk in pensive thoughts and did not notice I had arrived. The hosta leaves had grown so fast, it was a shame that our ornament could no longer be seen.”
Mr. Swiss had entered the scene of the crime. I again regarded my monster more intensely. Of course, it was Fred, my faithful garden ornament. My pensive thoughts had been on a walkabout and I forget him completely. Mr. Swiss had brought me back to reality. Fred had been living in the cellar during the Winter months. His new abode had been outnumbered by hosta leaves. I cast a glance in the direction of Mr. Swiss.
“No problem, that’s OK” I said, putting a brave face on it all.
That is the trouble with being sunk in thought, you somehow lose the connection to reality on the way.
Daily Prompt: Pensive