Bird Nests in My Hair

Unlike the photo of this pink-tipped hydrangea taken one year ago today, this same plant has absolutely no blush on its leaves as the air chills and summer ends.  Is it all the heat we have had?  Who knows.  Will it turn that pretty pink before it dies this year?  Clueless.  I guess that's how I feel, reflecting on the upcoming year as we turn off the AC and open the windows to let the fresh air in.  I love fall.  I anticipate the colors alive and bursting so much so I can feel it in my body.  The air that makes my nose tickle as the temperature dips and the humidity takes flight south.  The colors of red, yellow, orange that I stare at for so long my husband wonders if I'm having a little seizure.  I smile at the woodpile ready to stoke the wood stove and take a long baths in my clawfoot tub. It's a mystery whether or not my hydrangea will pop some color before the autumn sweeps in.  Who knows what will happen to my family member we are painfully tough loving because she's back to giving all her money to her Nigerian spy "boyfriend" who happens to be named after our brother.  And who's daughter is in the hospital in Cairo.  Bummer he lost his checkbook but no worry, he has gold bars stashed away safely in Sweden.  "Send gift cards" is his "love note" to my seventy-three year old sister addicted to this take relationship like a heroine addict is drawn to the white powder that launchers her into Nevernever Land.  Who knows how long my dog will live, I fret?  Her new meds are making her look a year or two less than 100.  She only lost her footing once yesterday, doing a belly flop which I was trying to brush her teeth.  Who knows what it will be like to evict a tenant reeking like the local brewery when he refused to take the eviction notice from my husband, yelling, "You can't force me to take that!"  We have already been to court once for nonpayment of rent. That was before his partner OD'd.  I just took Ibuprofen for my nasty morning headache, the likely outcome of laying in bed last night, distressed about the sister who is once again giving all her money away and the sad souls we need to evict.  My brother tells me, "Be happy!  You have so much!" And I do.  And yet that awareness does little to wash away the angst from my brain.  Trying to embrace and even enjoy the mysterious future vs. worry and fear.  I find some solace and maybe advice or perhaps explanation in this Chinese proverb: "That the birds of worry and care fly over your head, this you cannot change, but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent."  Ah, that's my problem, yellow-breasted chats nesting in my hair.  Or maybe barn owls. I think it must be a downy woodpecker rearranging his twiggy nest, jabbing on the back of my head.   Time to jump in the shower and rid my curly head of twigs, eggs, and birds that need to take flight.