Wes and I took the party outside for a bit yesterday morning to lighten the little crab cake’s mood:
How much easier it would be to have this time be part of our daily rhythm if we lived in a house with a big backyard instead of our second-floor apartment! At least we have a tiny tot lot in the neighborhood, though bearable only in the very early morning, before the brutal South Florida sun scorches it or the hurricane season rains drown it, and before the too-big kids loiter it in the afternoons, having no better place to go.
While our friends in Colorado and Minnesota are enjoying snow (snow! It’s autumn guys, not winter!), we’ve got highs in the 90s in the forecast for days to come. The palm trees never change color, and if the other trees around are changing in any way it is only because half have been murdered by the rental community’s landscapers following some silly city decree. Even the beautiful canopy that provided some shade to our balcony, where when Wes was smaller and could still sit safely in his bouncer chair I read him The Secret Garden and The Wind in the Willows, has been decimated. Barely a branch has been left for the birds, and only an abandoned nest smartly built as high as possible remains.
Still, I AM thankful for the warmth we do have that lets Wes spend 20 minutes with his toys under a cloudless bright blue sky. And perhaps, if we are lucky, we’ll find a makeshift pumpkin patch somewhere around where we can pretend, for a moment at least, that it is autumn here after all.