car wash

With the hot sun, beaming down on face and back and feet, perpetuating , worsening slipper tans. Garden hose in hand, spraying thousands or millions of small water droplets, or continuous streams of water, with high speed and intensity at the bushes, and the garnenias in the planters, or more like the wall behind the gardenias because otherwise that would probably be too much impact for the fragile flowers. At the ground and the sky and the dirty car. all the while with a miniature rainbow shimmering on the spray as the sun shines through the water.
There is a certain peace attained from washing cars. Most times I don't want to wash anything, simply because it is a Chore that I am required to do if my mother says so. But this time was different. the water was mesmirizing to watch and felt good as the spray rebounded off the vehicle and onto my skin. the simple action and motion of scrubbing the entire surface was relaxing. And the feeling of completion on a day when I had otherwise done nothing was good.