Never one to say no to anything, nor able to resist a good community effort, I’m tossing my well-intentioned (and precariously balanced) posting and publishing schedule out the window this week to participate in Momalom’s Five for Five. Which, in this round, includes Extraordinary Ordinary’s Just Write and Melissa Camara Wilkin’s Six Word Fridays. I love all these writing exercises, and all these bloggers, so here I am.
Today’s topic is change, which I’m seeing outside, as the buds on the pear trees bloom, and on the baseball diamond, where the weeds grow, and in my living room, as the sound of lawn mowers filter through our open windows on Sunday afternoons. And I should welcome this graduation from cold and fog and perpetual rain, except that I know Oregon springs, and I know the rain will be back. Probably tomorrow.
And so instead, I find myself hitting the rewind button, scrolling through a year’s worth of blog posts to the last time I wrote about spring, just for validation that yes, I do remember how dismal it is, and instead I find this:
The ‘you’ is Toby, a year younger, with more baby teeth and fewer inches and smaller shoes. The ‘me’ is me, because some things never change. And yet he’s there, in springtime, in his favorite tree which is still his favorite tree, doing his favorite thing: pretending. Which just so happened to be my favorite thing when I was a kid in spring.
And still is.
Photo credit: orionpozo