October 7

It is very early in the morning, crickets are still singing outside my window. I haven’t been able to sleep these last few weeks; I suppose it’s the impending move to Europe that has my mind racing, and I love this old cabin in the woods and hate the thought of leaving it, even though I expect to be back in the spring. There is something holy about the sounds of the stillness here … when the only breaks in the silence are hoot owl calls, insect songs and coyotes weeping at the moon.
Last night I tried going to bed early, I was exhausted and got under the covers right after dinner … Then my two year old son came in and crawled up on the bed with a book and tossed it in my direction, his face filled with a huge wet smile. He was in his pajamas and his hair was damp and curly. He is at is most cuddly at times like this, and I sat up in bed and read to him and thought to myself how precious these moments are, when all he wants is to share time and space with his mother and father, to glow in their love. It will feel like a heartbeat when he is grown and gone and that moment, just a dream from a sleepless night.