Juggler of words and children…collector of pottery shards
The sun is setting rapidly, and dinner is late, but I am too tired to take another step; so I sink down into the front porch swing with a cup of tea.
The tulip magnolia behind me is getting ahead of itself. Here and there velvety pods are swollen, and threatening to unfurl into magenta and cream colored blossoms. “Slow down!” I whisper to it, because I know that frigid days and nights will return.
Not tonight, though.
The cloudless sky is beautiful. The first star of the evening is a white hot point against deep blue that fades to white, and then orange at the horizon. The large oak, and pecan trees stretch their still bare limbs to heaven – sharp, black sillhouettes against the brilliance behind them.
For the thousandth time, I thank God for planting us in this beautiful, nurturing, peaceful place.
Suddenly, the stillness is broken by my girls. I watch them race along the sidewalk toward me, and then through the yard, legs pumping, braids streaming out behind them. Skin paled by the long winter, reflects the half light.
“Not for long…” I think.
Soon, the first long hot day will come, and they will burst inside sweaty and breathless from their play to reveal deep mocha hues-three shades darker in one afternoon.
I watch them run.
So strong. So beautiful.
From somewhere in the back yard is the sound of a bat making contact with a ball as Little Man hones his skills. He has talked his oldest sister into practicing with him. Patiently, she tosses the ball to him over and again, playing a sport she cares nothing about for a little brother she adores.
Inside the house, my oldest son, so quickly becoming a man, is absorbed in a poetry project for school. The sculpting and molding of words has captivated him, and he loses himself infinitely in the search for the perfect illustration for each author’s work of art.
The girls race by again. The sun sinks lower. I swirl the last sip of tea in my cup.
Life is sweet.
“The blessing of the Lord makes one rich, and He adds no sorrow with it.” Proverbs 10:22