skimming the stream of days

6 May

I get so busy sometimes that it’s hard to breathe, hard to stop and remember that it’s a beautiful day outside and the sun is shining and the leaves are finally stretching their arms and legs out to me. I get so busy with the mundane, the reports and the pivots, the diapers and the dinners. So many variables, until you round the corner near the school, and hear the sounds of hundreds of frogs, echoing across the neighbourhood, their love songs not to Alfred, but to each other, to spring, to the first morning of a hundred such mornings, foggy and musty and covered in wet tears of happy and warmth.

 

We circle the pond, carefully, searching for these frogs, my feet staggering near the edge, remembering far too many incidents that ruined far too many pairs of new shoes, that swamp smell never leaving them. I mutter about bringing garbage bags next time, wondering why the school never cleaned, removing at least the plastic if not the frothy scum on the water. I wonder if the frogs have multiple eyes or legs. I wonder why people can’t clean up their own mess, ever it seems. The hockey ball is forgivable-the 3 empty jugs of laundry soap-not so much.

We find no frogs-I find a tree. A tree that’s new and clean and gleaming in the early evening twilight. It’s nubby and round and altogether reminiscent of being a little girl. New and rounded on the edges. I’m fascinated by it, the greenery, the almostness of it, teetering. Like it was holding it’s breath.

We walk home, busy life forgotten, to do lists stored in outlook, laundry mostly done. The girls slow as we near the house, streetlight by streetlight appearing and the sun falls farther in the sky.  Rosalyn asks for what may have been the last time ever “See Mommy?” andI hold her hand tighter, feel her silky cool fingers wrap around mine as Vivian dances in the night with her father.

It’s all so nubby and new.

(Title taken from Bewitched Playground by David Rivard)

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11 Responses to “skimming the stream of days”

  1. Hannah May 6, 2008 at 8:23 pm #

    Isaac and I went looking for frogs on the weekend. It was such fun although he was worried that we were looking for them because they were lost and needed to be returned to their mommies. 🙂

    Were you guys near the flood zone at all?

  2. thordora May 6, 2008 at 8:36 pm #

    Nope. Nothing here. We aren’t on the river.

  3. Daureen May 6, 2008 at 9:15 pm #

    Uuuummm like, you actually get to go outside???? LOL

  4. nursemyra May 7, 2008 at 3:39 am #

    nubby is such a wonderful word

  5. thordora May 7, 2008 at 6:28 am #

    You’ll get back out there soon enough. 🙂

  6. bromac May 7, 2008 at 9:46 am #

    Sounds like a wonderful family evening.

  7. bipolarlawyercook May 7, 2008 at 10:11 am #

    Great post. I can hear the peep-peep-peeping of the froglets.

  8. Julie Pippert May 7, 2008 at 12:40 pm #

    This is lovely.

    Interestingly, I wrote a post about nature today too, and stopping to appreciate. Well you know what they say about great minds. 😉

    Love this part

    “So many variables, until you round the corner near the school, and hear the sounds of hundreds of frogs, echoing across the neighbourhood, their love songs not to Alfred, but to each other, to spring, to the first morning of a hundred such mornings, foggy and musty and covered in wet tears of happy and warmth.”

  9. radical mama May 8, 2008 at 9:34 am #

    I so love the sound of frogs. One thing I really miss about the country is all of the wonderful noises.

  10. Jenn May 9, 2008 at 8:26 am #

    I love the bull frogs maiting calls. Its my favorite spring time cacophony of noise at this time of year. It is such a beautiful thing to be outside in the early mornng hours when the world is still quiet, the birds chirping the frogs making love the buds on the trees that were not there the morning before. Everything feels so fresh and new.

    Its funny I wrote a post about our first camping trip of the season a few weeks ago and made mention of the singing/mating bull frogs in the pond across from our site.

  11. cori May 9, 2008 at 11:51 am #

    That was lovely, my dear. Ribbit, ribbit 🙂

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