In Observation of Joy – Solitude


I am awake before my husband and son this morning.  Instead of rolling under the covers for a few more minutes of rest, I get out of bed, wrap a sweater around myself, slip on my chanclas and head outside. It is my first taste of a Texas autumn. With the wind zigzagging through my toes I slowly pull the mangera from its snake like coil and water the matas that adorn my front porch.

I have become the matriarch I once admired in my grandmother who valued rising early to tend to the life in the yard before tending to the life in the house.

I notice a new budding of tiny red and orange florecitas atop a plant I have newly planted.  It must be thriving from the soil where it is enterrada.  It was in a pot before and would not give this kind of show until it was buried deep into the soil.  Like the plant, I too must be grounded in rich soil in order to thrive.

I recoil the mangera and sit on my porch swing, which I like to call the Writing Dock.

I hear the train chuh chuh chuh and then its horn con fuerza on an iron track not visible from my yard.  I’ve never seen the train near my home, but just up South Flores Street there is the train that runs near the Gravelmouth Gallery.  I assume it is this train that is causing me to want to warm my cafecito and imagine the era of industrialized transportation.

The bing bing bing of the bell from Mission San José announces the beginning of a Sunday morning Spanish sermon.  Visions of my childhood chime in reminding me of the veils my grandmother and I wore to mass on Sundays at El Carmen on Martinez-Losoya Road.  My mind lingers on how we fear the veil, forgetting that we once wore it- some of our elderly still do. (That’s for a later post, que no?)

It is nearly time to wrap up my journaling to go inside and make breakfast.  

I am thankful for my writing time this morning and for morning sounds with memories that attach themselves to those sounds.

In what ways do you crave solitude and what do you notice in those moments of soledad?  What joy can you gain from being still?