“All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.” 

― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Since we last spoke spring has slipped away in a rainy haze and in its place, a very mild summer emerges. Long sunny days that are rarely hot. I walk and re-walk the different paths of the park across the street. I am always delighted to see how new seasons change the small little corners. I find myself happy when I find a little spot that is all my own. A stretch of fence under shady leaves. A secluded bank next to the lake. There seem to be 1000 little spots to read, write and reflect. Shrinking my world has forced me to look at smaller things and relish the quieter moments. It's been a healthy time of introspection, refreshing for my soul.
 
This last week the blackberries have begun to finally ripen. Gaël and I will raid bush after bush on our walk back home from preschool. He'll see the big ones up high and yell to me "Daddy! Daddy! Up high! Blackberry up high in the sky!". I'll reach as far as I can to pick them. The leftover we'll take home and mix into yogurt for breakfast. Our weekly tradition of bakeries has faded away as we have exhausted finding new ones. In its place, we bake. Now done with oatmeal cookies and blueberry muffins, we'll tackle cinnamon rolls this weekend. I'll usually measure things and let Gaël combine and mix. It can get...interesting. Since we always end up with too much we follow it up by leaving the leftovers with little notes by the neighbor's doors. Gaël will yell "neighbor eat cookie!" and scramble off. Slowly we are starting to get more and more smiles in passing. 

He will move forward to preschool soon and I was surprised to find myself feeling wistful. I really would prefer to stretch this time right now. These moments...these moments...well they are so much. Yesterday after blackberry hunting and ramen eating, we stumbled home tired and full. We both slipped into the hammock before bed. He buried his head in my shoulder, made sure we were hugging, then we sang(off-key) as the sky shifted to a deep blue hue of blue.

Cowabunga dude,

DJ

PS: I am going to understate this no matter how hard I try. The kindness I have received the last few months is incredibly humbling. There have been so many ears, hands, feet and hearts. These actions are deeply felt and writing this I find emotion starting to well up. I am sorry I have not been more available or communicative the last few months. I have begun to make envelopes again and I hope that I will rediscover my words and will have the pleasure of getting to correspond with some of you soon. Never far from the mind, never far from the heart.

Written listening to this.