my son was born into the thick heat of a Carolina August. the little girl came to us here in early February- as the first signs of spring were creeping up around our yard. and they've continued their short lives here in this Southern place. a place foreign to me. one i'm still getting to know. but this is the land of their birth. though it feels strange to me.
they are learning about how to suck honeysuckle blossoms. foraging for ripe mulberries on our tree in the backyard. we talk about brown thrashers making noise in the bushes and cat birds mewing at us from the trees.
they won't grow up tossing the silk of milkweed in the air. knowing that perfect right-before-it-snows smell. they won't know the song of the red winged blackbird or collect bouquets of cat-tails to bring home.
there will be trips to the beach in place of weekend cabins. BBQ in place of Walleye. bachelor buttons instead of black-eyed susans.
we're learning together the ways of this place. how and when the seasons change. what flowers mark the ends and beginnings. it's a beautiful home. so different from my lake and forest-filled childhood. it's hard for me to see the things we have here as equal replacements. they are, though, i'm sure. but this minnesota girl will be forever linked to the land of her birth. and i suppose my littles ones will be too.
we're romping about this place together.
2 comments:
yep, i cried. quite a bit. i just kept picturing sitting at the end of the dock at sunset with a breeze. it's hard not to want to just recreate what we had. i keep feeling like our babies are missing out on the true beauty of our place. but i guess they have their own...
Some days I wish I had better words to make snow tunnels and skating on a bumpy frozen pond really come alive for them. But mostly they just look at me with their heads tilted... they know nothing else but here and I love to sit and listen to them talk and giggle about what fun things they remember and love to do.
Hope everyone is better.
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