Heaped billows of underlit clouds stood quiet sentry for today’s evening walk. The first dusting of new snow added its own underlighting in the air all around. You never get too old to be excited by the first snow of the season, even if it won’t last. I feel like I’m walking through a Norman Rockwell painting, and a rush of gratitude floods in.
Baby’s arrival is becoming more certainly imminent. The anticipation is making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else, but while I can, I’m determined to keep cranking out endnotes and grading student papers.
Every day I think, is this the last sunset before the newest member of our family joins us? Will she be born on a Saturday? A Monday? Later? I hope everything goes smoothly. This is such a new kind of nervous. I don’t know how this is going to feel, how it might transform my outlook on my life, my age, my plans, my children…or maybe it won’t change much at all, the most natural thing in the world, just a new joy to share, like the excitement of first snowfall.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 73: 190 words, TOTAL = 12,128; 47,872 remaining
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply.
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.