A Small Pond Lies Behind my Garden

A small pond lies behind my garden. I like to use it to water my plants. There's no hose, no piping, no nothing to bring the water from the pond to the plant's eager roots. I use a watermelon-colored watering can that's green from the middle down and red with black dots from the middle up.

The summer air swirls with smells of lilac and jasmine and I can see a summer storm trembling over the mountains to the west. Two stray cats swiftly prance across my back fence.

This is how I keep that deep-down trembling feeling at ease. You know, that feeling. It lingers in our stomach and all we can really do is try and find ways to cope with it.

I get up off of my knees and pick up my watermelon watering can. I walk behind my parcel of beauty and to the pond behind it. Two black holes stare back at me as I gaze into the water. I quickly look away and dump my watering can into the water. Fish quickly scatter away to the other side of the pond, and a frog on a lily pad dives into the water thinking it's escaping some sort of doom.

I have always thought animals can see into our souls. They see our deep down. That sense, that beauty. They know our deepest desires and truths, or maybe they're just stupid. But they say cats can see ghosts and dogs can ward off malevolent spirits. Regardless, I have no idea, and nor does anyone else.

I walk back to where I was earlier and begin pouring water onto the thirsting roots. I stop when small puddles of water form over the base of each plant. The water flows sweetly and softly out of the watermelon watering can and on the soil.

The cats scurry back the way they came and jump behind the fence to the rock alleyway behind. A yellowjacket whizzes by my face. I look up. The storm has gotten closer east, and the entire mountain range was covered by what seems to be a great fog, but that is just how storms are when they form over the mountains. That's just how it is.

I went back inside to get some more seeds. I opened my back door and it creaked open (I really need to oil it). Seymour came by and brushed up against my lower leg, and I dragged my hand through his soft, orange fur. I felt his purrs against my fingertips.

I walked down to my basement and began digging through a tupperware full of gardening tools. As I was doing this, I noticed another tupperware buried beneath an old coat on a chair a couple feet away that has to have been there for years. I don't know how I didn't notice it before.

The tupperware was full of pictures of people I didn't recognize, yet I was in each of them. I was posing with a whole group of people in what appeared to be in front of Niagara Falls. Another showed me jumping off of a cliff into some sort of river below. There were four of them in this group, three boys and one girl. I tried and tried to remember, but I just couldn't.

Thunder rumbled outside. The storm was getting closer.

I quickly threw the photo back inside and closed the box and I picked up my seeds and sprinted up the stairs and back outside to my garden. My safety. My home. I went over to the side where I previously dug some holes for my seeds. I buried and watered them.

Cannot. Think.

The plains just before the mountains were now being drenched and soon it would be me. The frog that was in the pond earlier returned to it's former place on the lily pad and hopped onto land. It was eyeing a fly. I quickly ran at the frog and chased it back into the pond. The fly quickly flew away as if it were escaping some sort of doom. Insects are, after all, animals, and I would've wanted an animal to save me when I was in danger.

The storm groaned louder and I could see the lightning from here now. It was coming. A chill crept up my spine. Seymour began scratching at the door to be let out. I can't let him out or he'll get into fights with those stray cats.

Scree Scree Scree Scree

The fly I saved earlier came back and flew around my head. Everything looked so distant. Everything sounded so close. It was in my head. It was so fucking loud.

Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzzzz Bzzzzzz Bzzzz

The thunder was closer. It was louder. Closer. Louder.

Crack-boom.

The rain began to fall on my garden. My garden. My garden. My fucking garden.

Drip Drip Drip Drip. Bzzzz Bzzzz. Scree Scree Scree Scree. Bzzzz Bzzz. Drip. Crack-boom.

I screamed and sobbed as loud as I could and threw my hands into the air and screamed even louder. Those damn strays were back running across my fence. I picked up my watering can and threw it as hard as I could at them, but it only hit the fence and they scurried away in fear. Animals, after all, can read our inner thoughts. They know what we think and feel deep down.

Crack-boom. Drip Drip Drip Drip. My garden. My garden. Bzzzzz. Scree Scree. Bzzzz. Crack-boom.

I ran inside as fast as I could to the top floor and opened the top window and climbed out.

Crack-boom. The thunder was deafening.

There was only one thing I could do. I climbed halfway out and reached my hand over the top of the window and grabbed on the side of the roof and pulled myself on top.

Drip drip drip drip. Bzzzzz. Scree Scree. My garden. My garden. Crack-boom. My garden. My pond. My life. My feelings. My brain. I could feel it in my fucking brain. Get out get out get out get out get o- MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT FUCKING STOP.

I screamed and jumped.

The cool water splashed around my every being. Every atom. Everything. It was nice. It was soothing. It was calming.

A small pond lies behind my garden. I like to use it to water my plants. There's no hose, no piping, no nothing to bring the water from the pond to the plant's roots. I use a dented watermelon-colored watering can that's green from the middle down and red with black dots from the middle up.