Out Front (on all the lawn I never knew I had)

And that last Friday after class, Amber came by bearing very Amberesque quality, homemade gifts of plantain leaf salve for those pesky no-seeums and other such bug bites and Writing Nature Nearby handmade journal and we sat crosslegged on towels 8 feet apart or more on the moss-lawn out front. We had planned to sit in the back, but there was no shade to be found, which I didn't know since I'm not much for sitting outside at 2 PM.

We used to stand by the door after class and talk for a while. There was always something. For more than 8 years, we stood by the door and talked, first at The Loft, then at the Xerxes Beach, and now here. About a month into the pandemic, we talked about getting together at a distance, so much missing our in-person ritual after class, but we both became immediately tearful at the thought of not hugging so we pushed it under, set it aside. Why add more to more? But then on a whim, she and her son dropped by after painting a mural in Uptown and, you know, you remember, it wasn't so bad after all. It wasn't so hard. And the next day she dropped off 4 tomato plants, which are going crazy in that backyard that gets no shade. And after that we said, you know, we can do this. We can get together and not suffer. And we did.

I've never sat on our front lawn before, but I've been thinking about it lately, ever since we sat on a friend's sloped lawn back Xerxes way on the 4th and had such a great time distantly clustered on a hill, wondering why we'd never done this before. We've been seeing fewer people out front these days, fewer neighbors tucked into their driveways screaming at each other requisite feet apart. It seems like it's back to abandoned Adirondacks poised perfectly on candy green lawns, waiting for a photo shoot, advertising, "Someone was here!  "Back when it's over."

I'm not sure if I ever would have sat on my front lawn, given how vast it is, akin to being on the moon, had Covid not happened. Well, actually, had Amber not happened, happened into my life. And I'm grateful every day for countless reasons that she did. Remember how she hugged that tree?