Thursday is my day to spend with a child
Two hours gliding through morning haze
Muting the blazing colors of fall;
Passing the hills I know too well
From last week’s ill advised bike trip,
I descend to cross the Connecticut,
Majestic river, bold enough to separate states.
The view from the bridge:
The bend in the river, the slopes and hills
Aglow from the smoldering seasonal flame –
Glorious.
I arrived to find an umbrella fairy house.
It was inhabited.
I could hear the squeals of laughter inside.
I thought I had been invited to a garden party,
But the party was for the garden, silly, not you.
Which more colorful?
The trees?
The double rainbow on the drive home?
Or the mind of a child?
The two hours spent in the morning mist
Had enhanced my entrance into the mystery
Of her world.
I don’t count seasons anymore,
Change goes only one way.
But Thursday’s change was special.
It is not cycles I seek, but tasting each day.
And being thankful.
I appreciate the glimpse of life from your perspective. Your view of the seasons- thank you for sharing that. For the moments you cherish, one at a time, may you find new delights, just as your grandchild sees and tastes and enjoys through fresh eyes. “The party was for the garden, silly” is one of my favorite lines!
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This is lovely.
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Thank you. I have good influences.
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