dig a hole

Until you are startled by the restless workings of your mind, and caught up again in solving some petty problem. And this is where your precious energy goes. I know, because I have spent most of my energy exactly that way.

The rest I spend eating lemons, or tending my garden, or watching the seasons change. Sometimes, I simply dig a hole. I love digging holes. Does that seem strange? Digging holes is a satisfying way to pass the time.

After I watered my lemon tree, I dug a hole. I made it big enough and deep enough to be a grave, just in case I collapsed from all the work. I know this does not make sense. I also know it does not have to, because I enjoyed myself immensely.

When I finished the hole, the sun was directly overhead. It smiled down upon me. The smell of the moist earth was fine. For a few minutes, I considered the possibility of living in the hole. Then I climbed out.

How does one climb out of a six-foot hole? By leaving steps. I am not stupid, only a little strange. When I was back above ground, I looked at what I had done. Then I picked and ate a lemon. I ate a lemon, and dropped the peel into the hole.