What was simply green a week ago has transformed into a garland of the most vivid blossoms. They are colours from which to weave dreams, as smooth and joyous as any silk. Even though the science is fully grasped, the way they originate from the soil, sunshine, and rain feels magical. The older I become, the more I realise what a marvel they are, greater than any image or movie.
I take a deep intake of fresh air and wipe away a bead of sweat with the back of my palm. After a week of rain, it is finally sunny outside. And I finally got the opportunity to pluck out the weeds from my garden. I've only been working for a short time, yet my body is already exhausted. Perhaps my body wasn't quite ready to carry both my wolf and another life at the same time.
