The Day I Left the Cabin

“There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air. -The Awakening, Kate Chopin

There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.
The birds, wilting from the record-breaking heat splashed in the baths,
disappointed that the water wasn’t cooler.
A yellow slime crept atop the old tree stump to make itself known.
The full moon was setting on the west horizon.
I read somewhere that it was the last super moon of the year.
I heard somewhere that this would bring about good changes.
I hoped that was true and went about my chores–
moving through heat that felt like a physical resistance.
I tasted salt as the sweat dripped from my brow.
I chased it with iced tea, crushing the ice with my teeth for emphasis.
I didn’t feel ready to say goodbye to this place I had called home
for the last year and a half–the time of COVID
–my first time living alone in my 56 years.
I will miss this.
But the way is forward.
Toward pink-sky sunsets
and new beginnings.
And the bees will keep humming
even after I am gone.

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