Monday, August 19, 2013

Morning Mist

With the sky a low-hanging quilt of white and grey, time stands still.  The dew still stands on the deck, and the insect chorus seems unsure whether day has arrived or not.  The sun is a stranger this morning, and the hour could as easily be six as nine.

An illusion, of course.  Today is a day of monumental change in my household, as one of us steps beyond education as threat and social requirement and into that realm where it becomes a true choice.  I thrived in that change and I hope and believe he will too.  We shall see.

But he is still abed and the rest of the house is vacant, with some at school and some at work and me musing about mists on the porch.

I wouldn't mind if time really did stand still here for a bit.

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