I am a giant.

I am a giant. Pull a weed, beat the dirt out of it,and give the weed a fling. I'm a savage giant. Weeds must die. I carve out small pieces of time to landscape during the day – keeping the shovel by the back door to save the walk to the shed. Offline is a new luxury. Most days, I've got my face in a camera, mind in a computer, and come days end head on a pillow before my child is asleep. Making the best of time, no action without a purpose - happiness. I have an unquiet mind, to slow it to silence, I let it daydream in the right garden. I'm planting ferns and moving rocks to keep the ferns company. This work soothes me. I love rocks and feel I'm doing them a favor when I move them. A rock in the same place for 100,000 years, it's bound to be grateful for a new view . It's good to move rocks far, so they don't have to live next to their ex-spouses another 100,000 years – that's the feeling I get. But, there was a rock who ran. As I carried a stack of rocks to the fern wall, a little rock rolled off the top. I hear it skittering down the hillside screaming, “ Mommy - Mommy Mommy, Mommy! I love my job as a giant.