Shifted light leaves me off - kilter out of balance
Last night we dined "en plein air" as we do, unable to stop gazing up up up at the dizzying absence.
Before they had finished chopping, chipping, my daughter and I ran to measure -- our arms encircling her wide expanse -- a farewell embrace. 14 feet 2 inches! How long was she standing watching over this house so steadfastly?
We first stepped inside one golden June afternoon, sunlight dancing and jumping in glittering patches across the wood floors. Through humid summers her vast canopy shielded us from the heat, keeping our rooms deliciously cool. Each October brought a burst of flame, bathing us all in shimmering yellow. She shook each last leaf to carpet the grass, benevolently brightening the months of darkness.
Disoriented, I mourn my faithful friend in this new, alien space.
I am the mother of six delightful children. I teach natural childbirth and yoga classes, cook, clean, read, draw, write, travel, garden, homeschool, crochet, talk a lot, taxi around town, and am generally striving to become practically perfect in every way.