Everyone knows that children don't anticipate anything beyond the next day (if that). If you tell them "we're going to Paris in a year or two," with the hope of stirring within them an excitement for that grand adventure, it will pass them by completely. A year or two is a lifetime. "Next fall" is nearly a lifetime. Frankly, even "later in the day" seems remote. Kids really excel at living in the present. You and I wish we could be as good at that as they are.
A bit of wind, a few clouds, lovely pale green colors: an April-ish kind of day.
Cool though. It stays in the low 50sF (maybe 11C). Still, when I propose breakfast on the porch, Ed pulls on his jacket and says sure.
(on the porch, looking out...)
And then the kids come over. As it happens, it is likely the last time that the two of them will be playing here together alone. Schedules are changing yet again. More school days for Snowdrop, starting next week. Ever the shifting structures in this tricky period where kids are forever needing to adjust.
Both kids experience a disappointment today, in that they thought they had brought something with them, eventually finding out that what they wanted was in fact left behind. Sparrow was quicker to forget it, but Snowdrop was, for a good handful of minutes, despondent. "You'll have it in a few hours" is not helpful. Only letting her grow limp in my lap, fully sad until all that tragic disappointment seeps out of her, allows us to then bounce back to the usual spirited play.
Kids are resilient. We hear that a lot these days. And it is true that they can take a lot of bounce, even in the course of one day.
But I don't know a kid who does not worry about one thing or another. And of course, we can't smooth the road for them and make it free of bumps and worries. All we can do is make that lap available when they stumble. (Snowdrop would tell me -- gaga, that was more than a stumble! Even though in a few hours the problem was fixed and she was made whole again.)
(lunch)
A few even cooler days coming up. Truly not a big deal. I read about the horrible sudden frost that just destroyed most of the budding grape vines in France and I think about how we here take weather reports as a day setting thing, nothing more than that. Never a lost crop, a lost year, just a day, one out of many. A short horizon, compared to that of, say, a grape grower, or any farmer.
Flowers for you? Sure, I have a few. April blooms. With love.
