The other morning we woke up to this…
And ate supper by this…
I jumped up and down and hollered to everyone to come and see. I scampered around the house looking for my camera with the excitement of a child. Hot air balloons: They are magical. And when one floats by your window its like the magic is all of the sudden transferable.
Last night the wind was howling and all those pretty autumn leaves were swirling around the sky. I intuitively knew it was the type of weather that is worth remembering. The boys and I bundled up and we clambered up onto the rope bridge under the darkening sky. The winds whipped through the trees howling and creaking all the way. Crimsons and speckled coppers and burnt siennas and positively goldens floated over our heads on the path the wind made. The rain began to fall down, in cold wet sprays. We raced for indoors. Stripping off our wet socks and jackets I knew that this was something they wouldn’t forget. These simple ten minutes were memorable.
These days are long, just like they say, but just the same, the years are so short. These boys give me a run for my money. So many four o’clocks come around and I am simply worn out, to the bone, and there are still a couple of hours until bed time. These miraculous windy moments mother nature offers to me are just the remedy. I don’t always know the right formula to keep my boys from running from me in the grocery, or for making weary eyes rest, or to settle fights over toy trucks, but what I do know is how to keep my eyes open. To see what I can see.
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