I intended to be gone from Dallas by now, to be relocated to the Piney Woods nearer the family farm and away from the unending stress of city life. But things do not always work according to plan.
And I’m glad, at least for now and not for reasons kin to why I decided to move in the first place. Those remain, still stand, continue beckoning me away.
Other motives justify this newfound contentment with being here in this place at this time.
Summer rests just around the bend. As temperatures heat up and life bursts forth with spring’s provisions, I realize this will be my last chance to enjoy some of the marvelous beauty this area has to offer.
I noticed this very afternoon my potter wasps are back. Between this morning and this evening, one of their kind has spent her day building a new pot on the same window screen that provided for them last year. No trace of that creation existed in the dim rays of sunrise today, yet there it is now, whole and complete and nestled in the safety of my patio where nothing will bother it.
Seeing her hope for future generations constructed so quickly gave me pause to consider what else I will see in the coming months.
What of the cicada-killer wasps I know and love, my favorite insect whose massive colony encircles the entire southern end of my home from front door to patio? Soon they will begin emerging from their nests, a new generation of giants thriving in short lives spent flitting about with the business of building next year’s brood. I know of no other colony as large, and I certainly know of no such colony in East Texas where I intend to live.
What of the green anoles and Mediterranean geckos who share my home? One predators of the light and the other hunters in the night, these creatures have enthralled and entertained me—and some have even brought me to tears. What of their last hurrah in my presence? Certainly I would regret leaving them behind without sharing summer’s embrace one last time.
What of the litany of life at White Rock Lake with which I commune so regularly, from birds to bushes, from insects to snakes, from trees to terrapins? This undoubtedly represents the final season of our shared existence. How can I not take advantage of this opportunity?
Even as today’s heat settled around me and made me realize how much I loathe this weather and the heat island effect of so much concrete, let alone the misery of so much pushing and shoving coupled with so little of the world’s true self, seeing the potter wasp’s handiwork and smelling the tropical discomfort settling in to stifle the world helped me see this as one last opportunity. I need to take advantage of every moment offered me by this season.