Listening to Billy Joel while doing yard work is absolutely fantastic. I highly recommend it. The backyard is alive with music and laughter, so much so it feels like I've been transported to a completely different dimension to the one I was in just yesterday. The sun is shining boldly onto my sweaty face, and the birds are fluttering about above our heads - making chatty small talk amongst each other. Now the Ronettes are playing, and the vibe is entirely different but still energized and full of life. I pick up my shovel and sing along, pretending the piece of wood in my hands is a live microphone. "be my be my little baby" is flying off the walls of the home. Though, being entirely honest, it sounds more like a tuneless cacophony more than anything else!
The experience of planting things outdoors reminds me of my NSO trip to an Oregon farm, not more than 30 minutes from campus. At that time, I was still incredibly new to the US, traveling many miles from my home country of Malaysia. I was rubbing shoulders with first-year students who must have felt as shy and anxious as I was. However, as soon as we stepped onto the inviting property of the communal farm, laughter and animated conversation was aplenty. I made many friends that day, plowing the earth to plant strawberries that must have grown plump and bright red. I remember leaving the farm happy and fulfilled, quite like how I'm feeling now after gently planting the next generation of Sweet-potato Vines.
As I finish up my work, the sky overhead begins to darken, and the temperature drops a few degrees. I shiver slightly. I think about the schoolwork that needs to be done - solemnly remembering that this isn't a holiday. Now raindrops descend gently from the sky, picking up speed with each passing minute. I've got to go indoors now. As I walk away, I notice the work I've done and smile to myself. "Everything's going to be okay," I whisper under my breath. I take off my shoes and step into the house, ready to start work on my thesis draft.
The experience of planting things outdoors reminds me of my NSO trip to an Oregon farm, not more than 30 minutes from campus. At that time, I was still incredibly new to the US, traveling many miles from my home country of Malaysia. I was rubbing shoulders with first-year students who must have felt as shy and anxious as I was. However, as soon as we stepped onto the inviting property of the communal farm, laughter and animated conversation was aplenty. I made many friends that day, plowing the earth to plant strawberries that must have grown plump and bright red. I remember leaving the farm happy and fulfilled, quite like how I'm feeling now after gently planting the next generation of Sweet-potato Vines.
As I finish up my work, the sky overhead begins to darken, and the temperature drops a few degrees. I shiver slightly. I think about the schoolwork that needs to be done - solemnly remembering that this isn't a holiday. Now raindrops descend gently from the sky, picking up speed with each passing minute. I've got to go indoors now. As I walk away, I notice the work I've done and smile to myself. "Everything's going to be okay," I whisper under my breath. I take off my shoes and step into the house, ready to start work on my thesis draft.