Taxing Time

 

Christmas is around the corner. This is the time of year when everyone takes a breather, even if for only a couple of days. Even those who are not Christians benefit from the pause at the end of the year.

I often wonder why the tax season coincides with this wind down as tax season winds me up.

I am an artist and financials scare me and send me scurrying away from the papers and paperwork.

Work also reaches a taxing time. Everyone wants their stuff finalised before the silly season.

So apart from the government taxing you, your feelings and emotions are taxed.

Where did the time go? Too much to do and this year you said you would be ready.

Christmas decorations have been up since October, reminding you that your feelings, your time and your wallet are all going through a taxing time.

© Vera Alexander

The Green Door

 

Joe was walking his dog down the streets of the village. Suddenly Buster started pulling him off the beaten track. Joe saw that there was a cluttered path leading off to the right. He battled through the bushes and undergrowth that were fighting to encroach on the path. Buster pulled him, walking faster than was comfortable for Joe.

Suddenly they reached a small clearing. A long, high wall extended into the scrub on either side of a green door. There was no house, no other signs of buildings apart from the high walls.

Buster pulled Joe to the door and sat outside, barking, looking at Joe, and then sitting with tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Joe extended his hand and grasped the doorknob. He was surprised that it turned, and with much creaking, the door opened a bit, enough to let Buster dart away from Joe as he ran, yelping in excitement through the gap, but Joe held on firmly.

Joe peered through the door. Brush, weeds, and shrubs prevented the door from opening fully. As Joe was trying to remove some of the obstacles, Buster took advantage of Joe’s lack of concentration and pulled away from Joe as he belted through the doorway, yelping in excitement.

Joe yelled “Buster! Come here!” but Buster ignored him.

Joe muttered “So naughty, so unlike him.” as he pushed his way through the debris at the door.

Joe looked up and was amazed at the secret garden in front of him. Buster was lapping water from the shore of a calm, blue lake. Dragonflies were darting over the surface of the lake, almost looking like fairies. Butterflies and bees fluttered from flower to flower. Birds twittered, undisturbed by the human and dog who had invaded their privacy. Joe gasped in wonderment. Whose garden was it? It had a solitary air about it, unkempt but yet beautiful. A sense of calmness surrounded Joe as Buster ran back to him and ploughed into his legs, sending Joe sprawling in the sea of flowers. Buster darted around him and on top of him.

Dog and master rolled around, Joe laughing and Buster’s eyes sparkling. Soon the game was over, and Joe lay on his back, absorbing the peace and tranquillity while Buster sprawled beside him in total contentment.