I was out there for an hour. I dug at grass growing in naughty places. I unearthed worms, and spied a fat ladybug. I tried to remember the name of that plant with short leaves and stems and the purple firework flower. I saw the same one at Red Butte Garden last week, read the label even, but I didn't write it down and too many busy days have passed since then.
I broke back the lavender, which I don't like to do because that plant should grow wherever it darn well pleases. After living in Arizona, I learned what a luxury it is to walk right out into my yard, rub those spines, breathe in, and have the clouds in my head clear for a minute.
Everywhere birds were calling songs that I don't know. Hummingbirds propelled over and around. Then thunder started folding in, so it was time to clean up. I thanked God for the lovely chore.