Somehow, in the midst of September's doctor appointments and ultrasounds, summer managed to slip quietly out the back door without my even noticing. The seasons have shifted and the page of the calendar has turned to a new month, and I find myself desperately needing to catch up with it all. To recognize the adventures we've had during those final weeks of summer that managed to get tossed aside and left behind in the craziness.
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Fair Season
One of the first hints that summer is near its end and autumn lies closer than I even realize, is the arrival of the Harford Fair. Each year Jon's company sets up a stand, and on the days that Jon has fair duty I tag along to keep him company. The tent sits directly across from the bingo hall, and all afternoon we hear "B4, that's B4...N15, that's N15" Bingo letters and numbers float around in my dreams on the nights after I spend an afternoon at the fair.
Last year Milani was only three months old, and she slept for most of the afternoon on a quilt in the corner of the tent, but this year she wanted to go, go, go. We walked and walked, checking out the rides, and greasy food stands, the tractors and farm animals. As we were toddling steadily along the walkway, Milani did an abrupt 180 and hightailed it in the opposite direction. It took me a minute to figure out what caused the about-face when I noticed a yellow balloon in the sea of people ahead, bobbing along behind a little boy. Sister had her sights set, and she was closing in, fast! We asked the boy's mother where they got their balloon, then marched straight to the People's National Bank stand to score our own.
Milani could entertain herself for hours with a balloon. She talks to it, strings it along like a close friend, and tugs on the string to reel it in for a hug. With balloon by her side she climbed bravely up the stairs of the empty grandstand.
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Fair Season
One of the first hints that summer is near its end and autumn lies closer than I even realize, is the arrival of the Harford Fair. Each year Jon's company sets up a stand, and on the days that Jon has fair duty I tag along to keep him company. The tent sits directly across from the bingo hall, and all afternoon we hear "B4, that's B4...N15, that's N15" Bingo letters and numbers float around in my dreams on the nights after I spend an afternoon at the fair.
Last year Milani was only three months old, and she slept for most of the afternoon on a quilt in the corner of the tent, but this year she wanted to go, go, go. We walked and walked, checking out the rides, and greasy food stands, the tractors and farm animals. As we were toddling steadily along the walkway, Milani did an abrupt 180 and hightailed it in the opposite direction. It took me a minute to figure out what caused the about-face when I noticed a yellow balloon in the sea of people ahead, bobbing along behind a little boy. Sister had her sights set, and she was closing in, fast! We asked the boy's mother where they got their balloon, then marched straight to the People's National Bank stand to score our own.
Milani could entertain herself for hours with a balloon. She talks to it, strings it along like a close friend, and tugs on the string to reel it in for a hug. With balloon by her side she climbed bravely up the stairs of the empty grandstand.
We also visited the Wyoming County Fair, where Milani fostered an instant attraction to the carousel. She stood in awe, pointing and squealing at the horses as they bobbed past. Oddly enough she was most interested in the only non-horse, weird rabbit creature on the entire ride. She would search it out and point to it, making sure I saw, every time it passed. So we got her little hand stamped, and she and Jon went for some rides.
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| I had to throw this one in for comparison. The apple doesn't fall far. |
We stayed until the sun sank well below the horizon and the sky deepened to a rich navy. The rides cast a glow that could be seen for miles as we drove toward home on winding roads with an exhausted, sleeping baby in the back seat.
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The Butterfly House
With the Mom's Group, Milani and I took a trip to visit the Creekside Gardens Butterfly House. The house, a wooden frame covered in netting and filled with butterflies and gorgeous flowering perennials, was nestled in the gardening center surrounded by eclectic planted urns and hanging baskets.
Inside the house, we learned about the life cycle of the butterflies, and the kids got a sugar stick to attempt to attract and feed a butterfly. Milani was content to stick close to my side and watch the butterflies eat watermelon. Every now and then she would trow a peek back in my direction, looking for feedback as to whether she should be excited or entirely wigged out by the butterflies.
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The Butterfly House
With the Mom's Group, Milani and I took a trip to visit the Creekside Gardens Butterfly House. The house, a wooden frame covered in netting and filled with butterflies and gorgeous flowering perennials, was nestled in the gardening center surrounded by eclectic planted urns and hanging baskets.
Inside the house, we learned about the life cycle of the butterflies, and the kids got a sugar stick to attempt to attract and feed a butterfly. Milani was content to stick close to my side and watch the butterflies eat watermelon. Every now and then she would trow a peek back in my direction, looking for feedback as to whether she should be excited or entirely wigged out by the butterflies.
After leaving the butterfly house, we spent some time in the children's garden, surrounded by eclectic, colorfully whimsical welded creatures, and some bubbling stone fountains. Milani loaded truck after truck full of pebbles from the pebble garden. Scattered throughout the ordinary, gray pebbles were pretty, colorful, polished rocks. Stumbling upon one was like discovering hidden treasure and made all the digging and hauling of rock even more rewarding.
Creekside Gardens hosted a butterfly release event at the end of September, and all the little butterflies began their long, fall migration south to Mexico. We will definitely be visiting the butterflies, and the children's garden again next year.
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Flooding
Right about the time my inner world was erupting into turmoil, bubbling over with the fear and anxiety of my pregnancy issues, when ultrasound after ultrasound were dumping entirely too much emotional weight for me to process, the skies dumped entirely too much water for the river to handle. My inner turbulence was eerily reflected in the rising, brown, angry water that spilled over the banks. So many neighbors, people living within walking distance from my house, found their homes or businesses flooded, completely destroyed.
My heart breaks as I drive through these areas and see the piles on the curbs of damaged belongings that used to be parts of the homes, and see people courageously and desperately working to regain their footing, and their lives. It makes me wonder why these things happen, why disastrous and heartbreaking circumstances surface in our lives. I really can't come up with the why but I have come to believe the truth in the fact that what doesn't kill us does indeed make us stronger.
Maybe when we struggle through a pregnancy, or loss, or flood we are actually being given a precious opportunity to rise up and overcome. To unite with one another and become stronger individually and as a community. To arrive at a place with more wisdom and richness and a greater reverence for life than the place we left behind.
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Sunny September Sunday
The last Sunday in September was gorgeous. The skies were powder blue with gorgeous white clouds, and the sun was warm on our skin. We spent the afternoon enjoying the fresh air at the playground.
Creekside Gardens hosted a butterfly release event at the end of September, and all the little butterflies began their long, fall migration south to Mexico. We will definitely be visiting the butterflies, and the children's garden again next year.
************************************************************************************************************
Flooding
Right about the time my inner world was erupting into turmoil, bubbling over with the fear and anxiety of my pregnancy issues, when ultrasound after ultrasound were dumping entirely too much emotional weight for me to process, the skies dumped entirely too much water for the river to handle. My inner turbulence was eerily reflected in the rising, brown, angry water that spilled over the banks. So many neighbors, people living within walking distance from my house, found their homes or businesses flooded, completely destroyed.
My heart breaks as I drive through these areas and see the piles on the curbs of damaged belongings that used to be parts of the homes, and see people courageously and desperately working to regain their footing, and their lives. It makes me wonder why these things happen, why disastrous and heartbreaking circumstances surface in our lives. I really can't come up with the why but I have come to believe the truth in the fact that what doesn't kill us does indeed make us stronger.
Maybe when we struggle through a pregnancy, or loss, or flood we are actually being given a precious opportunity to rise up and overcome. To unite with one another and become stronger individually and as a community. To arrive at a place with more wisdom and richness and a greater reverence for life than the place we left behind.
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Sunny September Sunday
The last Sunday in September was gorgeous. The skies were powder blue with gorgeous white clouds, and the sun was warm on our skin. We spent the afternoon enjoying the fresh air at the playground.
Milani is fearless at the playground, climbing rock walls and crossing wobbly bridges, and while the swings are still her favorite the slide is quickly gaining ground. It doesn't matter how steep or fast, she flies down with an open mouth grin.
At home, we spent the rest of the day in the yard and the garden. It's always a little sad to see the end of the season drawing close, knowing that all the planting, and weeding, and harvesting is about to end. To watch the tomato plants slowly turn brown, and to know that we might only get a handful more cucumbers and peppers before the first frost.
Usually Milani just wanders around the garden popping green cherry tomatoes off the plants and into her mouth, trampling anything in her path. This time she took a sincere interest in the soil. She found a spade and cultivator and meticulously moved dirt from one spot to the next, her concentration unwavering.
It's so heartwarming to watch her gain interest in the things that I find rewarding. I will always give her to space to nurture her own individual interests, but won't mind if she digs barefoot in the dirt next to me every summer.
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The crispness on the breeze and changing leaves are unmistakable, autumn is in full swing and I can't say that I'm disappointed by summer's end. I certainly love the hot, sunny summer days and all the fun we've had this year, but for some reason I am most optimistic, happy, and at peace in the fall. I love the colors, and the weather, and anything that tastes like pumpkin, and I am ready to embrace this new season.