Oct 9, 2014

Fall, falling, fallen

The streets are lined again.

Summer has zipped by as long awaited delights usually do. This year it felt particularly crowded with memorable experiences. Perhaps it's just the welcome relief of easy exhales: the past couple of years held a series of challenges that had left me feeling rather wrung out.

This year, amidst a celebration of unremarkable health and stability (which felt remarkable nonetheless), we got away from home and hearth and their constant tending for a few easy mini-breaks. They amplified the wash of gratitude and ease quite a bit. 

There was camping on Peddocks Island, Rocky beaches, night skylines and beach bonfires. Accidental friendship between little tykes and illuminating chats with good friends.

Then a jazz festival in the pouring rain that surprised me. I'm an incidental listener of music and have no shame in admitting it. Yet the energy of really good live music over-rode all (ok, most) my chilled discomfort. Not to mention the delight in  the 7 year old's unexpected stoicism in the face of severe yuckiness (technical term) because of his apparent delight in music. It seemed to mark a milestone in his maturity even if the whining did resume with the school year.

An overnight trip to our neighbors summer 'camp' on a NH lake. A day and a half full of peace, companionship and beauty. Casting for sunfish, eating buttery corn, a high speed boat ride, paddling in the shallows and paddle boarding in the deeps. A glass like lake in the setting and rising sun with gentle, warm and funny friends (So grateful to have them in our lives). Unparalleled slowness and Peace. 

But every summer weekend in the Boston area also offers up release without the time and expense of 'getting away'. Ours came in a steady stream. 

Day trips to area beaches, even on cloudy, chilly days that finally earned me my New Englander stripes. I'm a little bit more caught up now to my fearless family. Digging in the sand, trying to out-run the surf, exploring tide pools, breathing in the tang and listening to endless crashing waves. 

Like every year, Kayak trips down the Sudbury River and it's peaceful marshes. To break up otherwise packed-to-the-brim weekends. Oyon transitioned from being a masthead (in his seat at the head of our tandem kayak) to wielding his very own canoe paddle.  He added to his day-dreaming, the gentle drag of an oar in the water (as his dad laboriously course-corrected our boat for the unintentional rudder effect). We encountered the usual wildlife that tolerated us graciously. We gawked from within the almost drowsy fugue that these peaceful paddles always bring on. It's that odd state of half awake you encounter when wrapped in only the swishing of the water, the rocking of the boat, the even rhythm of your dipping-rising paddle and the sound of popping fish-exhale bubbles. The wildlife allowing us free pass into their terrain included prehensile looking Blue Herons, Osprey, sunning Red Eared sliders (tiny turtles), Plovers, swallows and hawks. 

The occasional hike - to high places, low places and spaces in-between.

Lots of backyard soccer with the Baba and with friends (of all ages).

And now the days are getting shorter, leaves are turning as blooms start to fade. A last explosion of color as we pass into a season of monotones and brace for the chill.

Bring it on.
It all really is good.

1 comment:

  1. prose and photographs complement each other to a perfection.
    brilliant read! :D