I love the bittersweet end of the summer- the days you savor when the breeze gets a bit crisp and the sky just looks like fall is coming. The crickets sing their sweet songs almost around the clock and when you walk into the garden they fall silent, as if they see you , but you can't see them. The crickets might just be my favorite detail of late summer. My lavender hydrangea makes it solo performance and I know what lies ahead...
We try to squeeze in a last few evening fires in our backyard with friends and family, complete with S'Mores and a cocktail or two. I find that it is in those minutes, staring into a fire that we connect, catch up and reminisce. A few new stories are usually told, but more often we recollect-past fires, events, tales and happenings. Occasionally, after the baby is asleep my husband and I will build a fire and sit out there talking with the baby monitor humming next to us-just the two of us. Sometimes it feels like it has been a while since we have actually talked. I mean really talked, not about diapers, crying, first teeth or Cheerios, but about the things we used to talk about.
I love the way the fields and the bay look at this time of year, still green, but with a tell- tale golden hue-the hue that just precedes the first blush of foliage starting to change.
This time of year infallibly reminds us of our annual pilgrimage to Quebec City, Canada. We have celebrated many a wedding anniversary there and just last year we went again, if only for me to waddle the streets patronizing each patisserie and creperie, 36 weeks pregnant. I think about our daughter having been there with us, though on the inside, and that we didn't know it at the time, but in 3 short weeks, we were to meet her in person. I like to think that she enjoyed the pastries and crepes I diligently sent down the line for her that week.
We have both been wanting to make our reservations to go again this year-I get a text message from my husband almost daily from work,"Quebec is in the air" it reads...
Oh, to eat steak and frite at our favorite little restaurant, translated, it means "crazy little pig"- we love it so much there, that we have even come to call out daughter "Le Petite Conchon Dingue" for crazy little pig...
When I look at these pictures, I am transported, a reason I love photos-they instantly take you to a place you haven't been in a while, evoking the feeling, the smell, the sounds of a place. This one evokes my pensiveness about impending motherhood and how the little creature that was on the inside would impact our life out here. This picture depicts how I felt then, a bit transparent, faded, tired and scared. I look at that belly and I remember how it felt to be pregnant, the smell of the food in the air that night and the sound of the horse drawn carriages around us- the feeling of love.
A few of my favorite things: summer's closing routine, evening camp fires, Quebec City, crepes, pastries, remembering, long term love and photographs.
I love the bittersweet end of the summer- the days you savor when the breeze gets a bit crisp and the sky just looks like fall is coming. The crickets sing their sweet songs almost around the clock and when you walk into the garden they fall silent, as if they see you , but you can't see them. The crickets might just be my favorite detail of late summer. My lavender hydrangea makes it solo performance and I know what lies ahead...
We try to squeeze in a last few evening fires in our backyard with friends and family, complete with S'Mores and a cocktail or two. I find that it is in those minutes, staring into a fire that we connect, catch up and reminisce. A few new stories are usually told, but more often we recollect-past fires, events, tales and happenings. Occasionally, after the baby is asleep my husband and I will build a fire and sit out there talking with the baby monitor humming next to us-just the two of us. Sometimes it feels like it has been a while since we have actually talked. I mean really talked, not about diapers, crying, first teeth or Cheerios, but about the things we used to talk about.
I love the way the fields and the bay look at this time of year, still green, but with a tell- tale golden hue-the hue that just precedes the first blush of foliage starting to change.
This time of year infallibly reminds us of our annual pilgrimage to Quebec City, Canada. We have celebrated many a wedding anniversary there and just last year we went again, if only for me to waddle the streets patronizing each patisserie and creperie, 36 weeks pregnant. I think about our daughter having been there with us, though on the inside, and that we didn't know it at the time, but in 3 short weeks, we were to meet her in person. I like to think that she enjoyed the pastries and crepes I diligently sent down the line for her that week.
We have both been wanting to make our reservations to go again this year-I get a text message from my husband almost daily from work,"Quebec is in the air" it reads...
Oh, to eat steak and frite at our favorite little restaurant, translated, it means "crazy little pig"- we love it so much there, that we have even come to call out daughter "Le Petite Conchon Dingue" for crazy little pig...
When I look at these pictures, I am transported, a reason I love photos-they instantly take you to a place you haven't been in a while, evoking the feeling, the smell, the sounds of a place. This one evokes my pensiveness about impending motherhood and how the little creature that was on the inside would impact our life out here. This picture depicts how I felt then, a bit transparent, faded, tired and scared. I look at that belly and I remember how it felt to be pregnant, the smell of the food in the air that night and the sound of the horse drawn carriages around us- the feeling of love.
A few of my favorite things: summer's closing routine, evening camp fires, Quebec City, crepes, pastries, remembering, long term love and photographs.
No comments:
Post a Comment