there is the man with the three german shepherds–i pull my own pup away from them, passing the little free library, i see that peter rabbit is keen to be chosen by someone’s tiny curious hands and i think about my own children and how they’ve grown, and how i love them more than i could have ever imagined loving–how watching them fly away and watching them become such good and kind people has been so joyful, but there, a butterfly flits from one stem to another and its soft yellow beauty transfixes me in the moment as i stop to listen to the humming of the bees–juliet pulls on her leash and i see the grey neighborhood cat approaching, so i walk onto the uneven bricks, crossing the street near the bright purple garden, close to where i once photographed a smashed can of orange crush
ferns quietly unfurling,
fallen petals and tiny sleeping fawns,
shadows on rocks and on thoughts
fuzzy bees and spikey petals
blue feathers on the forest floor
yawns and naps and cold, sweet tea
seashells in a garden
and just like that,
hearts turn to stone
10 to 30 days are lived in the moment, by the minute–
until the end of time
photo by Guinevere Stearns
she was enough
how could i have known that i would dream of you night after night?
Earth, Wind and Fire
(the group–because Boogie Wonderland–but also…)
and raging fires
I will be taking a blog break and will see you again sometime next week.
Be safe and enjoy the late summer days.
See you soon friends.