sometimes the world speaks and i am awake enough to listen . . .
i pull over to capture these two photos,
one a few weeds ago, one just last week.
i think of my dad; who was a railroad man,
and a fisherman. he often told use where the tracks led
and more often than not, had an aluminum boat
tied down on the top of his truck.
hi dad . . .
it is an ordinary week until it isn’t. there is garden work,
new treats for the dog, walks, and rowing.
life seems to have taken on an easy going
rhythm, full of unencumbered love and sweetness,
”oh, there you are,” i tell myself . . .
we celebrate his 36th birthday for two full days.
we celebrate with too much food,
too much hard cider, and his favorite cookies.
i bask in their laughter, falling into bed each night
tired and happy.
i laugh as they take selfies and do my best
to take it all in.
my love for all of them so easy now,
if that makes sense.
the boys ignore their mother when i tell them
to look at me. i can’t hear what they are talking about, but allow them to
ramble, to sink into brotherly behavior and a sense of humor only they share.
the girls follow my cue, and i can’t help but feel
that they are the finishing pillars on a frame that completes
a meaningful picture; standing strong with these men they love.
“You write a thing down because you’re hoping to get a hold on it. You write about experiences partly to understand what they mean, partly not to lose them to time. To oblivion.”
― Sigrid Nunez, The Friend
have a lovely rest of your week . . .
I stand by the flowering quince almost daily with my camera.
I also crawl on the ground among the forget-me-nots.
While he does his very best to not smash the flowers.