“To love another person is to see the face of God.” -Victor Hugo
My boys. My world.
I don’t want to let go of summer. Nature is working against me though and already fall is willfully inching in around us. It’s a perfectly crisp 70 degrees out right now and I’m sitting here sipping my first pumpkin latte of the season. The Pats are playing tonight and there is very little that makes me as happy as the beginning of football season. Today when I went walking around the block, I noticed the first leaves beginning to change and glide to the ground. Normally I’m excited about all these fallish things—it’s my favorite time of year and I’m usually ready by now for riding boots and cider donuts.
But not this year. This year I want to hold on forever to the green, sunshiny season when my baby was born and I was reborn as a mother. Already six weeks have passed since he came into our lives and I’m afraid he’ll be all grown up by the time the last leaves fly and this summer—this most transformational of summers—will be done, gone, and forgotten in a blink.
So I’m holding on. Holding on to my summer baby and the sunshiny season when he was born.
This week I started taking him for walks around the block in his stroller. I’ve mostly been holed up in the house since he was born because it still feels like a bit of an ordeal trying to leave the house with a newborn. But you can only stay inside drinking espresso and watching Netflix for so long before you start to go a little cray cray. So we walk and explore and breathe in all that wonderful fresh air…and we don’t go crazy…it’s a win win.
We stop all along the way and snap pictures of whatever pretty summer things we can find.
And herbs going to seed
And colorful bushes and leaves
It rained last night and today the air was filled with the fresh, clean smell of wet pine needles. Big billowy whipped cream clouds went floating along and the sky was that perfect cobalt blue that follows after the rain. These are the days I want to remember. These summer days when my baby is tiny and happiest curled up tight in my arms. These days when I’m a brand new mommy and me and this baby are seeing the world together for the first time—he truly has never seen it before and I somehow see it all so differently now that he’s here.
These are the days, the perfect summer days that I want to remember forever.
A fresh little bud in my garden, With petals close folded from view,
Brightly nods me a cheery “Good morning” Through the drops of a fresh bath of dew.
I must patiently wait its unfolding, Tho’ I long its full beauty to see;
Leave soft breeze and warm, tender sunshine To perform the sweet office for me.
I may shield my fair baby blossom; With trellis its weakness uphold;
With nourishment wisely sustain it, And cherish its pure heart of gold.
Then in good time, which is God’s time, Developed by sunshine and shower,
Some morning I’ll find in the garden Where my bud was, a beautiful flower.
–The poem, Mother’s Garden