My hands smell of fresh, succulent lemons as I prepare breakfast, lemons that were picked from my parents' farm. It's so strange that a scent can be so much, could carry so much meaning. I am giddy from the very thought of it, as it lingers on my hands.
We are in an old, new place. Back to my roots in my childhood town and the farm I used to call home. The people I used to know are here still, unchanged in many ways and kind like I remember. As I have grown this place has remained still. I look the same as I did before I ran away too but beneath my skin, every part of me is different.
Familiar faces on the street come as a shock to me. Introverted, in my own made up world, I forget that here I am forced to meet people from my past. I am so happy to see them but I become a little bashful and say silly things, scolding myself for being so ridiculous as I walk away red faced and slightly embarrassed.
My small boys flourish here. Already I see so much change in them. Before the sun has emerged above the horizon we are awake, jet lagged and anxious to see the sun we walk through the shadowed garden and wait for its impending glow. August runs, giggling. He is ecstatic, like an imprisoned bird set free to soar again. My parents' dogs, black and white and wild, follow August eagerly. They are almost always by his side, like his animal guardians. Our days spent here are spent outside. I follow August with my camera and Elder sleeps peacefully against me in his carrier. We collect eggs and pick raspberries, strawberries, cherry tomatoes and snow peas from the garden. August learns quickly and knows how to find them. He walks satisfied from the garden with sticky hands and his plump lips stained red.
Elder is like sunshine on a dull day. He is happy and giggling and patient, content with his world. It is a relief to be the mother of such a calm and gentle creature. Adjusting to two children is tiring and my busy mind slips easily into distracted frustration. I will be forever appreciative that loved ones are near enough to save me, that the incredible task of loving and caring is shared with my family.
Life's dynamic has changed now that Elder is here. The slow, easy days when August was so tiny have changed to organised, regimented ones or complete chaos, mostly the latter. It's hard to accept that those bliss-filled days are gone now but this new tempo is ripe with possibility and has taught us to strive for bigger, better things. I wish we could decide on a path to take now. I remind myself that it will come in time and if not, we will carve our own way.
Each night a weary August pulls me to the door as he rubs his eyes and I pick him up, wrapping my warm arms around his tiny body and walk him outside. The stars here are brighter and more beautiful than any other place I have been. We are drawn to them. They call to us, just as Sirens would entice sailors by their deceptive beauty and promise. I sing 'Twinkle twinkle little star' as we stare out to the never ending universe above. August waves to the sky as I take him inside. I wonder sometimes how he can contemplate such an extraordinary sight.
When my mind wanders from reality, daydreams are filled with fresh food and a garden of my own. I am more lazy than I would like to admit when it comes to food but I'm hoping that a working garden created by my own hands will be the encouragement I need to dedicate my time to making wholesome meals. While we're here, with space and support I would like to turn my day dreams into reality.
How long we plan to stay is unclear. We are lost, as we so often are and life here is insecure. Tomorrow we might have to leave but maybe we will stay and discover something incredible.
