Thursday, August 21, 20025, 40.4*, 81% RH, 0625
A zipped-up, hood-up morning. Soleil casts window frame shadows on the blinds. Coffee in a primary blue cup, makes me smile. Ruger asleep beside my chair. Two of-a-kind sleep behind me in their room. My son off to another task. He would’ve never been happy confined to an office.
As an infant I carried him strapped to my chest, later in a pack on my back. He would put his feet on my hips, push himself up for a better view. How do I know he preferred outside? The moment I stepped through the door into the kitchen, he cried. He communed with earth, with sky. Children, their life plans already formed, are born knowing why they’ve come.
No wonder so many get lost trying to conform.
Art: LJ Austin "Portrait of a Young Lady"
