Posts Tagged ‘childhood’

Innocent mind

Sunday, September 11th, 2011

A day when many are remembering an awful tragedy, I offer the face of a little one whose innocent mind is without this memory. Unless she sees the cover of a newspaper today.

Anna, safe in her house looking out at the world

Summer in Cadillac

Saturday, August 13th, 2011

The ingredients for the most basic of innocent summer pleasures:
hot sun, green grass, garden hose, H2O, little sister.

Addy & Anna, summer 2011.

Twas the night before

Friday, December 24th, 2010

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

Adelina awaits

Revisiting 128

Tuesday, December 21st, 2010

Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.

Wise words from a Navy dad.

Boulder Hill, 7am. One block from Grandma's old house.

“Did you see the sunrise this morning?” I asked my dad yesterday. “It looked like the horizon was on fire.”

“Yes, we’re going to have some precipitation tonight.”
Indeed we did. Four inches.

My timing for visiting the old neighborhood was perfect,
except that I had forgotten my gloves.

Morning at Winrock Pond

Every time I’m alone in a car in this part of the world – it happens about once a year – I drive past my childhood home.

In Immortality, Kundera says, “memory does not make films, it makes photographs.” I think it makes something more like erratic stop-motion. This yearly drive-by puts me inside those old stills, to feel them with all five or more senses. Series of images flash in my mind, layers of them, which resemble the scene in front of me, which happened right in front of me, yet feel so very far. Years of change are evident in the developing wrinkle in my forehead and the pine tree I remember as a shrub.

The old house sleeps on frozen pond

I stood with freezing fingertips at the edge of the pond, watching the sun rise on my old bedroom window, not really sure what I was doing there. Curiosity. My answer for everything lately. I’ll put myself there and see what happens. I want to look at everything, and some things I want to look at today, tomorrow, next week and next year.

I felt the biting cold air and listened. I do not remember ever hearing the hum of a distant highway. My childhood was surrounded by farms, not four lanes and mini malls.

Sun rises and shines on my childhood's bedroom window

A 6-Year-Old’s Summer

Tuesday, August 11th, 2009

Spending summer evenings with Hannah.

Her last few weeks before first grade…

hannah montage

An Illinois playground

Tuesday, August 4th, 2009

this used to be my playground.

winrock 3

for 14 years,

my entire childhood,

i looked out from my bedroom window

at this pond,

from that little white house

with the black roof,

and the red door.

winrock 2

these rocks used to be my mountains.

at one time i needed a helping hand to climb the tallest one.

now they seem almost pebbles,

but they have not moved.