Starrs Aboard

This morning I went outside to pull weeds.

Nothing deep. Nothing meaningful. Just weeds.

No matter how many things I have on my to do list before I retire and Ed and I head out on our next adventure, the weeds remain completely unbothered and keep doing their thing.

They just keep growing.

And lately, I have been so focused on everything we are trying to do that some of the regular maintenance around the house has definitely been neglected.

So outside I went.

Every September, I also clean out the irises. I pull away all of the dead leaves from the season because if I leave everything packed in there, they do not do nearly as well the following spring.

I had just started pulling away the old leaves when a toad suddenly jumped out.

He startled me a bit because, at first, I thought he was a snake.

Then I realized what he was.

And, of course, I took his picture.

Because he was pretty cute.

Then I went back to work.

As I moved farther down the row, pulling away the dead leaves from the next clump of irises, I noticed him again.

He had moved.

Not far.

Just far enough.

He had found another little spot where he could tuck himself away and settle back in.

I tried to get another picture of him in his new home, but he had buried himself pretty deeply.

And I decided he had been uprooted enough for one morning.

That was when it hit me.

Maybe that is what we are doing too.

We are pulling ourselves out of the place we have been planted for years.

We are selling things, changing our address, leaving behind rooms, routines, neighbors, familiar roads, and a life that has become so normal we barely even have to think about it.

And lately, if I am being truthful, I have started wondering what it will feel like when all of that familiar ground is suddenly gone.

We are excited.

Very excited.

But excitement and uncertainty can apparently live in the same house.

Then this morning, a little toad got evicted from my irises.

He did not have a plan.

He did not know I was coming.

One minute he was perfectly comfortable, and the next his whole little world had been disturbed.

So he moved.

He found another spot.

And he settled in.

Maybe it really is that simple.

We are absolutely uprooting ourselves.

But we will find our new spot…and then another…and another…and another…

We will adapt.

And I think we are going to be just fine.