Maybe Forever

We have an old metal storage building out in the back. It's actually the trailer from a semi and when we moved here, it will filled to the brim with trash. In typical Roy-style, it is now clean and organized with gardening tools hanging on its walls. But behind this storage building? It's a wreck.

I don't think I can adequately describe what this area looked like. It has a tree growing wild back there with limbs intertwined and interspersed with bushes that are scattered and woven together in a heap that grows almost as tall as the building itself. And in this web of brush are two large barrels, barbed wire, old fencing, trash. It was overwhelming to look at it.

Where does one begin?

Yesterday Roy got home early and so he went to town on that pile. That boy? He knows how to work. And so by the time I got home, we walked together to see his progress. He pointed out the spot he has designed for our fire pit which he plans to build in the next couple of weeks. He has already been gathering his supplies and intends to buy the bricks this weekend. We passed the heap of tree branches that Roy spent hours and hours pruning off trees while Jace and I dragged them to the back and piled them up into a stack that reaches far over our heads. And then we turned the corner to see this barren space behind the storage building that used to be that overwhelming brush pile.

Except for the sprawling, wild tree and one lone blue barrel, it was all gone. Hauled out.

"What's up with the barrel?" I asked.

Roy explained that it is filled with some form of liquid and he just isn't sure what to do with it quite yet. I am sure he will figure it out in record time.

Roy does not know the art of procrastination. I, however, am an expert. I have tried to educate him, help him out a little in that department, but he is a poor student and set in his ways of getting things done.

It's a problem.

Further behind the shed, we have an entire acre of brush and intertwined trees and vines growing in disarray. As I looked at this spot that Roy cleared out in an afternoon, the thought came to me that he may very well determine to clear out this acre next. Any sort of disorder goes against the grain for Roy and he just can't help but dig in and create order from chaos. It is deeply engrained in his nature.

(I don't have this problem either.)

And so, as we stood there, looking at this empty space, I realized that I am not interested in clearing out that acre behind the house. I rather like this unruly habitat. It grows wild and free and tangled. That means no yard work, no fertilizing, no mowing.

That means more me time. You know...hanging on my porch, lazily throwing the ball for Piper and gazing out at the sinking sun; watching another episode of Game of Thrones; reading the next book on my "Fiction to Read" list...you get the idea.

And so, I cautiously approached the subject: We aren't in any hurry to clear the back acre, right?

"I have other things on my list first," Roy said.

I nodded in appreciation. "I'm thinking that back acre can wait for retirement," I said, heading back to the house. I didn't give him a chance to respond.

And if he did, the wind whisked his response away.

The sun is rising now and the shades are open on my window. As I peak outside, I can see the back acre in the distance. It looks a bit haunting this morning as it is hazy out. But nevertheless, I like the view.

I vote to keep it this way for a few more years.

Maybe forever.