Childhood Is A Short Season

"Childhood is a short season." -Helen Hayes

These are just a few snippets of the beautiful year we have been having so far. Writing those words...'beautiful year'....cuts me and brings tears to my eyes, because I am living each day in such division since my mother passed last August. There is the sweet beauty of my outer world: of my bustling, pretty home, spilling over with Legos; the sing-song of my son's voice asking questions, laughing, singing, complaining, demanding, explaining the world through his eyes, telling me he loves me 'more than there are things;' the daily rhythms of coffee, toast, dog-walking, nature and bird-song, laundry, dishes, friends, groceries, play-dates, meals, bed-time with sleepy cuddles and books in the blue-yellow glow of a globe lamp. And then there is the visceral pain, the choking-on-tears sadness, the inner explosions of desperation at the realization that I cannot bring her back, I cannot change this, this is what I must live with now. Living each day in this divide is still strange, but it is becoming more familiar the longer I live it.

As Helen Hayes says, "Childhood is a short season," and this knowledge, which feels almost like a threat, like a bitter truth, keeps me as firmly planted in gratitude for the every-day as much as possible. This time is fleeting. This time of chlorine and ice cream, sunscreen, scraped knees, a stick-sword, swings and footballs, watching Tom and Jerry under a fluffy comforter while drinking cocoa through a straw, hair still wet from the blow-up pool in the yard; a belly round and sticking out unapologetically, sticky popsicle juice running down fingers, shouting and singing and jumping from high-up places; one moment Super Hero, the next moment curling up in Mama's lap and stroking her arm, needing me and still so small.

Rafael, Mama is so sad sometimes, Mama misses her own Mama, Mama feels lonely and abandoned. Who will love me and call me and check up on me; be concerned, care, and bare witness to the weavings and highlights and tragedies and victories of my life? This was all my Mother; she was difficult and wonderful. She annoyed me and delighted me. She read my blog religiously, she commented on my Facebook posts; she called and wrote and loved watching Rafael grow up. She was a cheerleader, my biggest fan. She saw so much good in me, and wanted to see me flourish and live to my fullest potential. This is all missing now.

But now I am that for you, Rafael. I am your Mama. I am your biggest fan. I annoy you and delight you, I am difficult and wonderful. I will cheer you on, I will remind you all the time how awesome you are. I will watch your life and destiny unfold, I will be here for you as long as I can. I will be concerned, I will care. I will see the good in you, and will help you flourish any way I can.

Childhood is a short season, and I will not let it slip by. I will celebrate each day with you, my boy. Yes I will be sad, I will miss and I will feel that cutting loss. But, my boy, I've got you, and you've got me. And that's more than I could ever ask for.

October on the Little Farm

These were taken the other day at my friend Dani's little farm on the outskirts of town. "We have twenty-six apple trees on this piece of land," she told Steffi and me, and offered to fill bags with as many apples as we wanted. 

The drive there, over a winding, dusty dirt road, was flanked by radiant, golden beech and oak trees, and there were whole hedges of light blue wild asters. Here and there a wild cherry tree blazed bright crimson. The sky was blue and it was one of those beautiful autumn days that makes your heart ache, because they are so fleeting. 

When we arrived Dani treated us to buttery homemade pear streusel cake. We drank tea, and talked whenever there was a chance (parents will understand what I mean). 

Then we headed outside into the fresh air, Dani's little baby boy tucked cozy into a carrier on her chest and our kids running in all directions. They chased the kitten, hunted the chicken, tasted apples, ran around the huge expanse of lawn, and watched Dani's father in law drive by on his red tractor. The big walnut tree was bright yellow, and the blackberry vines dark purple. All that was left in the garden rows were a few little pumpkins, some tomatoes scattered on the ground, and one last tiger-striped nasturtium. 

After the boys had kicked mole-hill dirt, climbed in and out of the tractor, and blown the seeds off of the last dandelion puffs, we packed our bags of freshly picked apples into the car, said goodbye, and headed home. 

An afternoon to remember.

xoxoxo

Playing and Learning in Nature

Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life. -John Muir

Looking back on recent posts, I became aware of how much time Rafael and I spend outdoors. Having dogs means more dirt and more responsibility, but it also means being forced to get out into the fresh air, rain or shine, heat or snow, twice a day. This has been a huge blessing, a gift, for both myself and my son.

At the beginning of spring, everything in the woods was new and fascinating for Raffi. He got excited every morning, and it was hard to drag him out of the woods. He would go on and on about the things we saw, and wanted to learn the names of bugs and plants.

Now, nearing autumn, Rafael often doesn't really want to go on our daily morning walk in the woods. He would rather visit his grandparents who live down the road, watch television, or play with cars. At least, this is what he thinks he would rather do. I push him in the stroller down the village road, the dogs' leashes in one hand, getting us to the forest as quickly as possible, while Raffi complains and makes suggestions for other things to do. 

Then we finally arrive at the wide path leading into a cathedral of trees, and I set the dogs free, and let Raffi slide out of the stroller. Sometimes he'll turn back and say, "Let's go home," or "Let's go to Grandma and Grandpa." The dogs are already busy sniffing and running, and I am also hungry for the trees and wind. I search the ground, looking for something of interest. 

"Look Raffi," I'll say with enthusiasm. "Look what fell down in the rain storm last night: acorns! Let's gather them for our collection. Here's more!" Other things I show him that get his attention: a puddle. A feather. A tree trunk to balance on. Slugs. Caterpillars. Mud. Wild berries. Rocks. Dragonflies. The creek. Salamanders. Sticks.

Once one of these things has his attention, he forgets about everything else, and could spend hours in the forest (as long as I have snacks, which I always do).  

I wanted to share this with you in case you thought my child is a nature magnet that begs to go outside and has never watched a television series. No. I have often thought that I am lucky we have dogs who have to get outdoors every day, because this means that even if Raffi whines and says he doesn't want to go, we go, and we stay for a while, and he ends up loving it. 

As years go by, and his hours spent in the woods, in the rivers, and in the fields accumulate, I know that many of his favorite memories will be made out there. 

Please share one of your favorite memories of being in nature here. I just love reading them!

xoxo

A Little Piece of Paradise

My friend Steffi asked me, "What are you going to do tomorrow afternoon, when Rafael is with the babysitter?" In the past the answer was always, "Clean in peace." This time it was, "Visit Gerit, and take my camera with me."

I am learning to clean while Raffi is home, and enjoy hobbies and leisure while he is away. It's still not easy for me to just step out of the house, leaving behind piles of laundry and a floor scattered with toys and books. But I am getting better at it. If I want to have some balance in my life, if I want to take photos or have meaningful conversations with friends without being interrupted, this is the way I need to do things. 

My hours spent at Gerit's home were wonderful. She spoiled me with homemade chocolate cake, and showed me the ducklings, and the raised beds with tender pumpkin vines and blossoms. She also took me up to the hay loft, where she strings up herbs to dry, and generously gave me a bundle of oregano and hyssop. 

When Gerit and I meet up, we always end up talking about plants: wild edibles, herbs, medicinal uses. I learn so much from her. Often when I take walks, I'll come across a plant I don't recognize. I take a picture and send her an email: "Do you know this one?" She either answers herself or forwards my email to a few 'kräuterhexen' (which translates from German to 'herb witches') for them to help identify.

I love Gerit's home. The little kitchen cluttered with treasures: a jar of especially pretty chicken feathers, a bowl of dried rose petals, honey from the local bee-keeper, blue and white eggs from the coop, and countless jars of dried wild herbs that she has gathered from the near by fields. I love her garden, with giant forests of stinging nettles, dead nettles, and elderberry, and ducks and chickens picking quietly at the clover-covered ground. The thin winding path leading to the brook in the back, and the gigantic old pear tree where crows have nested. It truly is a little piece of paradise.

I am grateful for her friendship, and happy that there are people and places like this. 

xoxo

P.S. To see more of this little piece of paradise, click here. 

High Summer

One of the many things that has changed since I had Rafael is, I actually enjoy and appreciate Summer. Up until now, it has always felt too hot and sticky, and I would spend the summer months yearning for autumn. Now I am grateful for days where he can run around barefoot, and where you don't have to make any special plans in particular. You just open the back door and your son will run out into the garden, and be content for hours on end just playing outside under the blue summer sky.

Today I took Raffi down to the river that curls through our town. We found a shallow spot with lots of rocks to toss into the water. While Rafael threw stones, I snapped photos and found a little boat someone had made out of bark and leaves. There was birdsong, and the sounds of children playing and dogs barking in the distance. I was filled with a deep sense of calm and contentedness watching Rafael laugh and play with the only things a little kid really needs to be happy: sticks, water, stones, and mud. 

Whenever I take photographs of Rafael, I am aware that these are time capsuls. I am capturing moments so fleeting, and so precious. 

One of the things Raffi loves to do at the end of the day, when he's in the bath, is tell me what's in his belly. I'll say, "Oh my goodness, look at that big round belly! What's in it?" And then he recalls everything he ate that day. "Pancakes. And bluebellos (his word for blueberries). And...what else? Pretzels. And himbellos (his word for raspberries). And....what else? Ice cream." He has an incredible memory and gives me quite a detailed list.

Lately he plays so wonderfully on his own. Either in his room, where he looks very carefully at books or empties his basket of cars one automobile at a time; or in the garden, where he takes his tiny watering can from plant to plant, or fills his red wagon with stones. I can clean and cook in peace, and every few minutes I tiptoe to wherever he is, and check up on him, trying not to distract or disturb him. One of my favorite things is when he is completely immersed in a book, with a wrinkled brow and pouted mouth. 

He has been sleeping in his own room since we returned from vacation, in his little white bed with the cowboy blanket and teddy bear. He's growing up so fast.

Wishing you cloudless, magical summer days.

xoxoxo

Summer

My friend Dani just had her second child, a lovely angel of a boy, and invited us to visit her on her little farm and meet the latest member of the family. I held him and my heart beat faster. I made sure his sweet head was supported, marveling at his newness, handling him with gentle care. It's something so special to meet a brand new soul. 

After homemade peach cake and Dani's birth story, my friend Neli told me she would watch Rafael so I would have a chance to traipse around the grounds with my camera, as I love to do. I have missed being out and about with my camera very much. Losing myself in the plants, finding little pieces of nature that feel as if they were arranged just so that I could take their picture. Mother Nature creates the most beautiful still-lifes. 

So while Raffi splashed and squealed with delight along with the other children, I trudged through the high grass, discovering hedges of wild roses, a fallen feather, a rusty wagon wheel among frothy meadowsweet, and thin wisps of vine curling delicately around fencing. 

Summer is burning hot here, and Raffi runs around naked most of the time, with fingers full of cracker crumbs and a mouth red with strawberry juice. He has no time for sitting down to eat. I place little bowls of cut melon, peaches, ice cream, or banana on the patio table and he makes little stops for munching before running off to the water again. Sometimes I manage to slow him down long enough for a sandwich. Half of which lands on the floor for the dogs. He is having so much fun these days.

Happy summer everyone!

xoxoxo