We have been home bound this week.
due to an unpredictable sick tummy.
Not wanting to breath only indoor air for days, we venture out
Little Bear and I, into the snow.
Us two, having our own fun.
He, eating snow, stomping, flailing arms wildly.
Me, camera in hand, adjusting settings,
fidgeting with ucky automated washing out flash.
Finally, finding the white balance button and adjusting to cloudy low light setting.
Realizing writing, writing, writing has made for rusty photography.
Sauntering in snow delights him, sick tummy and all.
The snow catches on long eyelashes.
Click, click, click.
A firetruck rumbles by and we wonder- Daddy?
Being home bound has its own reward.
It binds you to things of home- simple days, unrushed moments, snow play, camera playtime,
kisses on still full and round baby bellies
exchanging funny faces.
Home bound, binding me home, binding me to moment life, simple and true.
A baby boy almost just a boy-boy decides when he's done.
When he's had just enough of snow, not pulled away by a schedule or a meal or a nap or a ride to somewhere he doesn't know he's going til he gets there,
he decides when it's time.
And time waits for it because we're home bound, grateful for a sick tummy giving us the gift of
binding us to home—
to simple true moments that don't
claim our minutes in devouring gulps,
but draw them out, long and lovely.Share |