Another frosty morning. It makes me realize how much I like cold weather - not frigid, but freshly chill. That will be an added benefit to dawn walks when the weather turns summery hot.
Last night was another "last time" for an event that I have always loved. The all district choral night. Choruses from 6th grade through high school perform, finishing with two pieces that all 300+ sing together.
There were two years when we got to watch all four of our children take part.
I don't know many younger kids any more, but it just so happens that one of my very good friends has a sixth grade son who sings. It was her first time watching her child at the event, and my last, which made it especially vivid to me somehow. I watched E. singing out with the 6th graders, a little fidgetty, nervously scrunching the cloth on the side of his pants with his hands. He is young and energetic, cheerful and engaging, and opening up to this new world of middle - high school. So much ahead.
Not that my children don't have so much ahead of them -they do. It is a different phase, though. One that does not involve me so much. I watched T up there in the group too. She loves music and singing, she smiles with her friends. She is also, I know, itching to get out of here and move on with life. That's the big difference. She is moving on - ready to go off. E. is just moving in, ready to take part here, in the thick of this community.
These occasional, unexpected waves of nostalgia come over me. Ache in the chest, lump in the throat. Then I try to just settle back into the present, and enjoy what is here and now. Fleeting.
Some contemplative pictures from the natural world. Trees reaching out for the light.
A thoughtful duck. He has moved in. Soon he'll be moving on. Part of the patterns of life. Or maybe he's just wondering why we haven't put a new roof on that barn yet.
More patterns in trees and water. He put his face in the water and shook it - washing? looking for food?