The weeks go by more or less like this. Knitting, work deadlines, construction, the pell-mell of family, the clatter and whistle of the approaching holidays already audible in the distance to those of us aspiring to make gifts — and yet the photographs make it all look so still. The camera can’t really capture life. Or can it? There was stillness to be had. The dog in her sunbeam savored it. My little ones tasted it for a moment, watching the grown-ups race the cyclocross course — and then rejected it, clambering back onto their own bicycles to try this divinely muddy and exhilarating sport for themselves. A little baby ice storm halfheartedly forced it on the city for a few hours last Tuesday — a snow day with no snow! And at last my husband and I helped ourselves to a sweet spoonful of stillness: two nights at the coast while the children rumpused their sainted grandparents, and a whole day in between to sniff around bookstores, eat breakfast at noon, and loll about reading and talking and imagining. Taco truck spoils in front of the fire. Bit by bit, finding the rhythm of two again, so we’ll know how to listen for it through the noise. Because like the stillness, it’s always there.
Tomorrow’s a big day around here. I’ll be back to preen my feathers about a new design!