Changes

Artist unknown. Image source.

All I see are changes around me. The light in our home as the seasons shift is one of which I will always observe with a particular fondness.

In the spring and summer, the sun pours into our dining room windows bright and unabashed, the morning’s heat already permeating through the panes and casting golden columns along the pine floors— the cat’s preferred location of slumber. The east facing side of our primitive hutch is permanently stained a shade lighter from her abrasive beams. Nature’s bleach. We follow her movements due West towards the coast in search of a cool escape, seeking the healing balm of a summer breeze on sticky wet skin.

Come fall and winter, the light slants ever so slightly. Low and warm. Soft and hospitable. The rays shift their course to the kitchen, almost as if knowing I spend more time there this time of year. Flour dusts the countertops as I stir and sway above the boiling, bubbling contents of my dutch oven. Probably some kind of soup or stew. She lingers there to illuminate the steam billowing from the pot, whispering, “Just needs a touch of salt.” She spills her golden warmth across the living room like the hearth in winter; shadows of dancing leaves, the likeness of sparkling flames. 

I shift my attention away from the pot over to the scones due for baking. I kiss the top of my son’s head, his honey-stained locks, warm and soft as a late summer peach against my lips. He looks up at me. I notice his eyes are changing, too. Once cool, shimmering ponds of blue, now mimicking the autumn leaves outside our window; a reflection of the seasons. Carmel apple core with hazel rims. A speckle of rust. The center, like his dad’s, the outside, like mine. A symbol of his essence— a spitting image of his mama, but just like his dad at heart. Calm and observant, but silly when provoked. Generous with his laughter. Introspective yet acutely aware of his surroundings. 

All I see are changes around me. But I feel anchored in the present like never before. Inspired like never before. Creativity brimming— heart light. My screen time, the lowest it has ever been. Maybe it’s becoming a mama that was the tipping point for me. Maybe it was quitting my job of nearly a decade to be home with my son. Maybe it’s feeling closer to my Creator after witnessing the life he created within me. All I know is, I want to press Pause, and stay here as long as I can until the inevitable sweeps me up like a current and, down the river of life, I continue on.