From the Recovery Bed

Skywards,
originally uploaded by Raven Weaver.

Do you know that day when you are recovering from being ill and the thought pops into your head that you feel pretty good? This thought arrives after more hours of sleep than you can count. You are also in a prone position expending almost no energy. After ninety some odd hours in bed, this thought came to me today. I managed a very hot shower, got dressed, scaled the Olympian staircase to the rooftop terrace and the two frustrating locked doors in between before settling into the lone chair to let the warm sun dry my hair. (Thank you to JD of RAK for coming through with his promise to share some tropical weather. Much appreciated.) After a short while of soaking up some sun on my face (but not too much everyone here says!) and having recovered my breath from exerting more energy than I have all week, I headed down stairs. A more aware person at this point would have realized that if a trip to the roof is exhausting, STAY HOME! I could not face the spicy lentil stew that Sanae had made and was wishing for fruit. By the end of the long lane from the house, I knew it was an iffy excursion. As it is Friday and thus a holy day, the streets are calm. I walked slowly. The little incline up to the local corner imbiber and his cohort was a bit of a challenge. They are always quite welcoming. Go figure. At last I reached the last corner, save one, to the fruit and vegetable souk. There standing was one of my evening security walkers, Mohamed. He asked how I was. When I said that I was sick, he replied "Yes, you stay home for five days." Boy, just like the Haida Gwaii grapevine, not much gets missed around here. He walked me to get bananas and apples and took the bag. I got some juice from the famous souk fridge which he also carried. Quite frankly, if I had to have carried them, I would have left them on the ground halfway home. He kept saying "step by step" and did not mind the frequent pauses. He did not want to take money when we got to the door of the riad. In that brief discussion I prevailed. A hot cup of tea on the table and an exhale found me resting back on one of the two courtyard divans and looking up at the blue sky through the orange tree. As I lay there, I remembered what one of Mohamed's friends had said upon hearing I was feeling under the weather. First in Arabic and then in French, he said "May God cradle you." So to whichever beliefs you may hold dear, I liked his wish that when you are less than yourself or less than able, that you might be cradled until restored. So to any of you who might be having a stressful day, week, month, or year, if you find yourself less than what you have been or want to be, MAY YOU BE CRADLED.
ps have limited tomorrow's excursion to only include the roof terrace....