I came unraveled this afternoon, and it felt good. There was much to do but I stood in the garden and, for a while, ignored the weeds to instead watch the corn grow.
My eyes closed as I turned my face to the sky and extend my arms into a sun-soaked form of a cross. The spinning world’s many hands were reaching for me, fingers slightly out-of-reach or only brushing gently against my fingertips.
A turn at any degree would allow me to choose the direction I wanted to go; which of the world’s hands I wanted to accept.
Such unraveling can only happen on such a perfectly moderate July day. Other days’ cold makes me draw tightly to preserve warmth; other days’ heat makes me draw tightly to remain cool.
This day’s unraveling allowed me to have it all, while allowing me to have none.
— Scott Schultz
Rural Routes 