August Sunday

This first August Sunday is overcast and cool.  The breeze off my deck reminds me of the coast, of the sea and I want to sip chai and write poems and go deep.  It's been a summer full of blessings.  It truly has.  I'm staring down the last week at home.  The last lazy week of easy mornings, pancakes and movies and books, bike rides and creek time, spontaneous playdates and Hamilton sing alongs.  Eliana is sleeping like a teenager -- it's 10:18 and she's still in bed.  I love it when I hear her door creak, the sound of her fan grows louder, and she slides down the hall, all hot breath and matted hair, all sleepy eyes and warm skin.  I don't want to think about how the transition to the school year will go, all the rushing and chaos, all the loud voices and energy from so many humans with so many needs.  Deep breath.  Some moments to hang on to:

July and Eliana's 9th birthday.  A trip to the Farmer's market, then to the mall for ear piercing, up to Snowbowl for a chairlift ride and pizza freak out.  It was so lovely having Alison and Kent here to help celebrate.  

A camping weekend on the Rocky Mountain Front with Bobby, Jo and the boys.  The kiddos and the river.  The kiddos and their sticks.  The kiddos and how they fall into their own groove in nature that is unlike anything else. 

And then the simple days.  Just moving slow and finding ourselves in new and beauteous spots.  Or old and beauteous spots.  How we all shift and change and the creek gets lower, their bodies longer, the days shorter and the light so very full.