Ross turned 7 on August 8. I can't believe he is 7, although he looks older. He is tall and lanky, and has stopped stumbling over his coltish legs. He is wonderfully handsome, and wonderfully imaginative. Right now he is assembling leggo and humming a tune from the Star Wars soundtrack. He at some point today placed one of his little clones inside his sister's flower pot. Next to his clone is a paper heart which Ella made at camp yesterday.
Outside a white butterfly is floating effortless up the cedar. I should be pulling weeds or rearranging rocks in the rock garden. But here I am, indoors, planted on my couch, wondering what it is about the summer which makes each day blend in to one.
When I was the age of both my children my thoughts were hazy dreams carrying me along a wingless, effortless flight to happy places, imaginary.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
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