A while ago I had to have a cyst removed on the back of my head. Besides me being fairly dramatic about making the phone call to schedule the procedure, the whole thing was not a big deal and the marble size bump was removed and my head stitched up with little fanfare. My long hair covered the wound and all was well. The doctor said I would have a small divot for a bit and I made the mistake of telling my kids. They were fascinated. Not by the procedure or my well-being of course, but that I could be walking around town with a "hole in my head" and, mostly, that no one knew.

5:54 in the morning and it is still dark. The way to know that summer is ending is to feel the dark fold up on each side of the day. And soon, we know it the way the birds know it, this season will turn right over to the next. Time has settled into a pattern of waking, feeding, playing, loving. I’ve been saying the not-new-revelation all summer. This summer — the one where we have spent over ten nights in tents and at least thirty hours in canoes — is going fast. 

Last night we received a dusting of snow. I woke up in the middle of the night and could see the giant pine trees being iced gently with white.  My 4 year old wandered bare foot into the kitchen at 6:30 a.m. this morning and he looked wide eyed out at the snow. “Mom” he said in total seriousness. “I think I have to go outside right now.” I told him to do what he needed to do.  Because if you ever feel as if you need to be out in creation right now — this second — you should be. So he put on his shoes and put his hands in his pockets and walked around our yard. Touching the snow with his bare hand. Kicking it with his sneakered feet. He gazed at the cornfield and looked for deer. He was completely content in the now. It wasn’t until his ears were icy and his cheeks were red that he came up towards the garage.

Joey is going to kindergarten tomorrow. He’s pretty pumped. For Joey “pretty pumped” means putting his thumbs in his jeans pocket and rocking forward on the balls of feet saying real calmly, “Yeah, I think I’m excited, Mom. Yeah.”