Sometimes I have to get away from my office, books, and screens and find a place outdoors to sit and breathe some fresh air, which is difficult right now when the air feels saturated with pollen. Yesterday on the drive home I had a sneezing fit so severe that I had to pull off the road until I could see again, but sometimes getting outdoors is worth a little discomfort, especially when campus is abloom with lovely things.
Except wait a minute, what happened to the pollinator gardens? For years now two plots just outside my building have barely contained a riot of sunflowers, dahlias, coneflowers, and more, attracting all kinds of birds, butterflies, and bees.
They're gone, torn out in favor of neat little rows of marigolds. Someone in a position of authority decided that the pollinator plots looked too messy, that gardens are best when they're neat, tidy, and arranged in straight lines. This is clearly someone who hasn't spent much time in actual woods or meadows or other wild places. I've been cheered to see some sunflowers lined up in rows at the end of the plots, but otherwise, no pollinator gardens this year. How am I supposed to endure six more months of office work without the opportunity to commune with butterflies?
So today I fled campus and found a quiet space along the Ohio River. Floodwaters have receded so it's a nice time to watch the boats go by. Years ago--can it be 40 years?--when we spent our grad-school summers working in campgrounds near Port Huron, Michigan, we could go to a park on the St. Clair River any day around noon and see a crowd gathered to eat lunch while watching the ships go by, big lakers that the locals knew by name, length, and cargo. Here we see coal barges and sometimes pleasure boats, but it's soothing to sit by the water even when there's nothing going past except our beloved local sternwheeler, the Valley Gem.
I've been working way too hard so far this summer, especially considering that it's only June. But goodness gracious--it's June already! I have to plan grant-related meetings, prep workshops, write syllabi for two or possibly three fall classes, and deal with aging-related annoyances. Which would you prefer to do: get a cortisone shot in your right knee, get physical therapy for bursitis in your left hip, or navigate the paperwork required to sign up for Medicare?
Time is flying way too quickly and I'm getting older by the minute, as my aching joints keep reminding me. But a bench next to the river is a catalyst for healing, a place where I can listen to the birds, watch the boats, and breathe deeply.
But not too deeply--all that pollen makes me sneeze.
