An Autumn Day in July

Texas is hot. Always hot. Too hot. Even in the winter, December, there are 90 degree days. For those native to the south, it makes no difference, its what they're used to. For those of us thatdon't eat sleep and breathe fire, its exhausting.

The past two days have been refreshing. Cloudy skies, moist grounds, skin tingling breezes. A dream come true really. So out of the ordinary, for July, that the leaves on some of the surrounding trees have jumped from their branches as if tumbling from a diving board, to swim in the puddled pools of rain water below.

This morning the kids and I went for a walk around the neighborhood. I thought I'd see more mothers taking their kids to stomp in puddles, but we had all of the streets and parks to ourselves. Eleanore stomped up what was left of a quickly evaporating street side stream, and stopped under a large tree by the toddler park. She bent over, picked up a leaf, threw it up into the air, and then watched it fall.



"Which one can I have Mommy? Which leaf can I have?"
"Pick any one you want Elie"
...long pause, she looks around.
"But there are so many!"

Every person in every car that passed us had a smile on their face. Its hard not to fall in love with the idea of wonder and the freedom that comes along with it.

As an adult, I think about things like how cold I'll be after my clothes have gotten wet from sitting my butt down in the small lake that formed in the dip in the road. I think about how my feet will slide around uncomfortably on my flip flops if I walk through the puddle without rain boots. I think about how many bugs and germs are hidden and crawling all over the leaf that my daughter just picked up out of the muck and rubbed on her face. Its all in the back of my head, but its still there.

As a child, she wonders what kind of sound her feet will make when they stomp down through the top layer of the liquid glass resting on the concrete. She asks herself how many leaves she can pick up at once, and then demonstrates her ability to count, laugh, and trip all at the same time. She hears nothing around her other than crunches and splashes. Time stands still for her.

Tomorrow if the rain is still here, I full intend on practicing the thought patterns of a 3 year old. I think it could do me some good.