A Day

I am channeling my inner-nineties teenager on holiday today, dressed in exercise pants and a sweatshirt that is too big for me. I could be heading off to cheer camp. But I'm not. I am sitting on my front porch enjoying the air that is just bordering on too chilly and my kids are riding around on various transportive devices such as bikes, scooters, and the like. My oldest, afraid of the roaming neighborhood dog-- a small Chihuahua, I believe-- is in the house reading a book.

The colors on the mountain are fading to their predictable post-color brown, while the trees in the valley are just getting warmed up. It is a regret of mine that the tree in our front yard, a rather spectacular and petite maple, will simply fade to a dreary color before losing it's leaves. Someday I plan to plant a multitude of trees that send off brilliant sparks before passing quietly into Winter.

My son is still in his pajamas. Rather than a sign of simple Fall-day leisure and enjoyment I see it more emblematic of the fact that he refuses to potty train. I hate potty training. And the yucca plant I had my sister pull out over the summer has decided to make a resurgence and has grown a happy eight inches out of nowhere.

A more welcome note of determination is the plant still flowering on my porch, despite a summer of lackadaisical watering and care. It's small bright pink flowers are a testament to that fact that wanted things can be just present as some of the unwanted things.

Thank goodness for nice Fall days and bright star flowers.