After reading this wonder piece, please explore her blog to take in more word tapestries.
I love word weavers. I tend to gravitated to blogs were the writers love words and paint beautiful pictures with them. Galit Breen of These Little Waves is a writer that totally fits that description. The post she is sharing with us today will draw you in and make you want to relax, grab a cool or warm drink and take in wonders fall has brought to where you live.
Crisp wind wisps my hair, cools my cheeks.
I slide out of my flip flops and rest my feet on the porch railing. Feeling the the sturdiness of our old home -worn wood, peeling paint, rough edges- against my skin, I don’t pull away.
I cross my feet in front of me and lean far back in my seat. The plastic gives way, wraps me up. I breathe in the night, and lean even further in.
Bonfire remnants -delicious and smoky and crackling and lasting- trail towards me.
The first splashes of color- golden yellows and royal reds- catch my eye.
And I can’t help but think that the very best of Fall is right here within fingertip reach.
Glancing at Jason in the seat beside me, I take him in too. His long legs reach so very far on the railing. His jeaned legs rest loosely against my bare ones. Our toes melt in the space between.
We pass one (pumpkin) beer back and forth as we sit side by side, somehow small within this kind of quiet.
We listen for our three children, long ago read to and hugged and kissed and tucked into bed “just one more time.” But still we listen for them, just in case.
Sparingly, he lilts about the stars, the leaves already starting to fall.
I am about to mention fundraisers and schedules and all that swirls in my mind, but I don’t.
My writing, his work, the dishes, the laundry, another Monday- all hang inside, whispering softly in the background, pulling us back.
Ignoring this noise, we continue to sit.
And in this rare quiet, we spot fireflies glowing their fleeting wonder. The magic is not lost on either one of us.
So pushing our to-do lists even further away, we sit, pass our drink, cross our toes, breath our hearts, not daring to disturb this kind of moment.
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