Swamp Attack

The gray sky contrasted with the full, healthy green of the swamp and complemented the compressing air. The leaves of the lilies jutted out of the murk as if they were spikes distributed over the pond, passively defending their turf.

Breathing in one woman felt as if the tiny white nats were filling her lungs as she saw them coat each plant. The stench of rotting plants twisted over the the murk and unknown of gray, muddy water moving and expanding, contributing to this surreal and unearthly place. Yet this pond was the epitome of diversity and biology and what it means to be alive and surrounded by growth and decay.

The women moved chest-deep through the alien plants, sludging into unknown objects with their boots, hoping that a hidden turtle wasn’t readying to snap.  

The four women migrated towards a small patch of lilies that was cut off from the pack, their movement through the mud sporadic and laboring. One woman crouched in the water, testing the area for the root of the closest leaves. She felt the bumpy, slimy arm of a root and motioned for the other three. Readying for the battle, they strategically placed themselves around the root. All grasped hold of the spreading tendrils of the invader and pulled. Their boots sunk into the mud as the force of their collective efforts failed to budge the plant. Coated in mud and sweat, their muscles flexed and strained, willing the formidable mass consuming the pond to move. Their legs worn from the hours spent trudging through the muck, they fought against the invader, heaving and grunting.

All four women locked eyes.

And one stood up, blinking hard with shock running across her brown eyes, her brown curls bouncing from the movement and a chuckle starting from her lips. The short-hair brunette, doubled over with a giggle that shattered the focus of the battle and the peace of the earthly sanctuary. Capped in a red, and now muddy, hat, one woman peered inquisitively at the one who towered over them, rolling her piercing eyes and lips spreading into a sweet grin. The last woman, rolling into the water, quickly glancing at all three and joining in with a shrieking and glorious laughter.

Silver light flooded over the women as they roared with laughter, their muscles cleansed by the oxygen of breathe.

Exhaling, the women returned to their task, not caring about the end result.

Hi. So I realize that a narrative probably isn't what was being sought after. But in my defense, I really think I captured the intensity of DC (okay, ya gotta really read into it) and the random weird shit that people/we have found ourselves doing in the past couple of weeks. To be honest, I can't believe how amazing my life is right now. If someone were to tell me when I graduated from highschool that 3 years from then I'd be in a swamp pulling lilies with amazing women (and people) next to me in DC while I'm interning at the Peace Corps, I probably would have believed you. LOL but the journey to getting to this point and becoming the person that I am today is something that I NEVER would have predicted. It's been hard getting here. It's been hard BEING here. And there are some people that I wish were still alive to see what I'm doing now and where I'm gonna go. So please just enjoy the ~ weirdness ~ of this blog post and appreciate how random and intense and crazy and amazing life can be. Cause that's what I've been feeling all day.

And also the Kenilworth service project was amazing.

~~Clare Rigney