Walking on and jumping stones in the back garden.
Tag: Alfie
counting joy
The blur of the busy, the full plate, and the inability to see what is missing or left out or left behind until I trip over the very necessity that I proclaim I steadfastly chase and hold onto dearly . . .
Joy.
In the darkness that I allowed to blossom last week, I saw the glories of fall—the orange and gold leaves of the massive tree I can see from my kitchen window! I have observed this tree washing dishes and cooking and watering plants and wondering how I am going to close my two kitchen windows tight. The tree is a few doors down the block in another backyard. Green all summer, it has slowly been turning into a mighty blaze of autumn color. Last Monday, it was glorious as if lit from deep within, as if ablaze of yellows and oranges. I was almost unable to take in so much color. As the week moved forward and the wind picked up, topmost leaves fell in a rain of gold. By Wednesday, some of the orange was fading into brown and some of the brown joined the rain. By Friday, the gold had almost vanished and the tree top was almost bare, and the weekend saw more of the same. Today, much more than half the tree is all branches, a skeleton of its summer self.
The noticing filled me with something that I had lost to exhaustion and frustration.
I can admit to missing the necessity of raking leaves. I know I used to complain when my Madison gardens were filled over and over with the leaves of big trees for what felt like months. And I miss the Julia as a little girl who raked and jumped in piles and enjoyed it all. Now, I look in yards full of leaves with a bit of longing, but not enough longing to volunteer to help rake. Maybe some year soon?
beginnings again
It is a beginning of September and my traditional time to return to what fuels my creativity and thus, my soul. Cool weather, the first sight of the un-greening of leaves, and children back to school. And a morning ritual that I have abandoned during a summer because who in their right mind can be disciplined during the hot, sun drenched days with a demanding offspring. But right now, the house is quiet, I am sitting at my desk and the only thing to do is to look for and return to how work happens. It is a return and it is always new.
I seem to have many loose threads that go together fine in my living them but don’t make for a cohesive blog post. And I haven’t spent enough time writing this summer to keep them all going.
Baby Alfie is two weeks old. He has presented himself as a child who needs to be held to sleep which is tough on his parents during the night, but as the visiting grandma of the day to sit and hold a little baby who is happily sleeping in my arms is such delight. He who I did not expect continues to surprise me. There is no doubt that I have loved my children and Wilbur, but I have never been drawn to infants. This one has opened a new place for me.
And it is worth noting.
alfie ray borick
Our newest little person made his debut very, very early this morning. After going to the hospital around midnight and being sent home, Cheshire and Justin headed back only a few hours later. Alfie Ray Borick was born at 4:15 a.m. weighing in at 7 pounds, 14 ounces.
I got to visit around lunch time and hold Alfie and watch his face and hands move. He is such a sweet bundle. He is an old soul.
I don’t have pictures of mama or daddy — what was I thinking? But just look at that face!
Chasing Joy 