The driveway is speckled, and the long grasses drip when wind shakes by. Those tall flower bushes, that from a distance look like wild roses but actually aren't, wave gently. The dog lies quiet.
Yesterday morning, passing the bunny room, I saw the white one sitting up on her haunches, washing her face with her paws. Lick, wipe, wipe. Post-meal cleanup. And utterly adorable.
Wednesday, after I returned from work, I attached the dog to her yard cable. The night's showers had dried, so I settled on the back porch with a glass of water and a book. Sunlight occasionally reached me through the trees. A line of wash hung in the yard behind this one. The dog acted more joyous and young than I've ever seen before - rolling in the grass, digging crazily, running circles, smiling up at the trees. These are the moments I love about summer.
My brother arrived last night. For a few days, I have him near. (And for two of the top three men in my life to meet each other.) At the moment, it's like high school again, him playing a video game, me watching and not watching, simultaneously not understanding the appeal and wanting to join because it looks fun. Somehow, he looks older than he did last December. I know this makes sense, as he is older, but all through college, I didn't notice him changing. Now, I see it.
When I stop to think, I've seen this same thing in other people. It's the post-college maturity that shows especially in the face. You can tell who's a freshman, and you can tell who's been out a couple years. Once, we had a mother and daughter in the tea shop, and the mother asked us to guess her daughter's age. She looked young, but something in her face suggested to me she was out of college. And I guessed her age correctly, much to her mother's surprise. And I'm seeing that maturity in my brother's face now.
Hrm. Now, I think, is time to bother my brother. Just like old times.
Yesterday morning, passing the bunny room, I saw the white one sitting up on her haunches, washing her face with her paws. Lick, wipe, wipe. Post-meal cleanup. And utterly adorable.
Wednesday, after I returned from work, I attached the dog to her yard cable. The night's showers had dried, so I settled on the back porch with a glass of water and a book. Sunlight occasionally reached me through the trees. A line of wash hung in the yard behind this one. The dog acted more joyous and young than I've ever seen before - rolling in the grass, digging crazily, running circles, smiling up at the trees. These are the moments I love about summer.
My brother arrived last night. For a few days, I have him near. (And for two of the top three men in my life to meet each other.) At the moment, it's like high school again, him playing a video game, me watching and not watching, simultaneously not understanding the appeal and wanting to join because it looks fun. Somehow, he looks older than he did last December. I know this makes sense, as he is older, but all through college, I didn't notice him changing. Now, I see it.
When I stop to think, I've seen this same thing in other people. It's the post-college maturity that shows especially in the face. You can tell who's a freshman, and you can tell who's been out a couple years. Once, we had a mother and daughter in the tea shop, and the mother asked us to guess her daughter's age. She looked young, but something in her face suggested to me she was out of college. And I guessed her age correctly, much to her mother's surprise. And I'm seeing that maturity in my brother's face now.
Hrm. Now, I think, is time to bother my brother. Just like old times.
