summer

This is the image of the stone people’s flatbed dump truck doing a pretty good job of finding the right target. Just moments before, the truck carried a distinct pile of sand, a separate pile of gravel, and a square stack of red stone on the pallet near the cab. In all, there was a four-ton delivery being deposited alongside my driveway.

I was astonished at two things. First, there’s the magnitude of it all. A ton of sand, a ton of gravel, and two tons of the red stone. Second, it all stayed stuck to the bed of the truck until friction gave way and it all started to slide, no longer separate piles but a conglomeration in the avalanche of rock. I stood back both to take it in and to make sure I wasn’t crushed or maimed.

It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t quite place it.

A few hours later someone asked me how my summer was going. I have a hard time with that question, so I tried to explain that there’s a new routine to the new season. All kinds of usual tasks are concluded and tied up, but all the things I couldn’t get done during fall, winter, or spring get organized onto a flatbed and transported to summer. And then it’s all dumped into one, singular, falling-down-the-ramp-onto-the-driveway kind of pile. I have to sort out which things to do first, how to re-organize them, and figure out how to get them done in the first place.

Starting with, of course, the patio project composed of all this gravel, sand, and stone.

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