A Friday

Sometimes the the days all run together, streams running into a building river. The river, whose current pulls at me until I feel I'm flying by every moment without a chance to stop. To stop and see color. To see detail.I creep out of bed and wander down to my bright-eyed-boys. I scoop them up, those boys wondering what is just so special about the sunrise. It comes up, it goes down. Every.day.
And maybe that's just it. Up it comes, and each morning I catch a glimpse out of my bedroom window. Then in the bathroom, that sun, it keeps coming. And I look at the mist on the river and think "I really should go down there." But then that stream of duty and things-to-be-done pull me hard and fast spinning down the river.

And I tell those boggled boys that today is different because today we will stop and watch that sun rise over the river. In jammies and sweatshirts we hike on down and discover a perfect beach, a perfect place to sit and linger over coffee....
Directions: Warmly dress boys, add nature and let simmer. Sit and sip coffee and look at every.little.thing around me.




Watch sun rise, see the effects. Play with stones, feel the weight of them in your hand.
See color. Then just try and drag little bold and curious boys home, home from the sunrise. From the moment of the day. I am never, ever sorry for stopping. Never, ever sorry for climbing up to the river bank to look, to listen and love life. Never Sorry.