Q is for quietness

One of the great rebellions of my retirement is claiming the right to do nothing.  I had a busy working life, was carer for both my mother and my sister, ran a house and garden which were much too big for me and now I enjoy the pleasure of quietness.

I’d hate you to feel that idleness is easy.  I have only to look around and I can see so many things which I should be doing but I struggle and say “nah”. 

The bins ought to be emptied.  The laundry is breeding.  I have lots of cupboards which need to be sorted.  But I'm ignoring all of it.

Even the birds are quieter.  The springtime avian urge for romance is a distant memory and now there is abundant food and they feel little urge to squabble. 

But it isn’t really quiet.  The freezer motor hums.  The occasional car passes.  Even my tummy gives the odd rumble.  Two of those are easy to ignore. 

But mostly there is quietness.

The leaves can fall without my assistance.

The rain can rain.

The washing can wait.

I am content.