There are now no posts between my two latest posts. It feels weird, in a way. I can't determine if it feels weird because I actually find it weird or if it feels weird because I tell myself it should feel weird about it.
Is it normal to get not more clumsy because I'm not clumsy, but maybe just less graceful with age? I've noticed I knock things over more often, I drop stuff and it seems like I've lost an ability to be graceful that I had 2 years ago. I know, in the past, that I've knocked over a cup of tea or two. Once I accidentally sat in a bowl of yogurt. I'm not perfect, I know that, I never have been. But it seems these things happen more and more. It worries me (because that is what I do) and I don't like the feeling of it. Combined with my increased need to search for words and my mistakes with missing words in writing, things don't seem fine.
But maybe they are fine. Maybe this is just what it feels like to be past your prime? Things are no longer improving so maybe that gives a feeling of things getting worse quickly.
Life is hard. I probably won't have all the answers I'm looking for before it is too late.
Nature, life and death
The house sat in the middle of a forest. It had a small garden that was tended to, but most of the surroundings around the house grew wild like nature does, as it should. In the house lived a couple. They were a bit weird. Not the kind of weird that attracts a lot of attention, but the kind that's just enough to notice. They both loved the other's idiosyncrasies and enjoyed their life together. They had no pets but named a few of the animals from the forest.
Neither the house nor the couple is at the center of this story. Stories could be written about both the house and the couple, of course, but this one isn't about them.
It's about the business that took place in the forest in which the house stood and the couple lived.
The forest was filled with trees of all ages. Some were only sprouts and others were close to 100 years old. In many ways, it was a young forest. The couple tended to the forest and spoke to lots of people about the forest. Usually, you don't want to find a dead body during a walk on the dirt paths but with this one forest, it would be strange if you didn't come across at least one.
The forest served as a natural graveyard. Bodies were laid to rest above and belong ground according to the wishes of the dead or those left behind. No flowers or gravestones marked the place. A single GPS chip was placed with the body, intended to last for 50 years before disintegrating.
The forest was the perfect place to mourn a loss and the life of the place confirmed that we as humans are a part of something bigger. No matter the speed we move with or the material possessions we surround ourselves with, we are a part of nature. If not in life, then in death. And so, as the dead were joined with the soil, they once again became a part of something living.