Tonight, it is raining.

Outside, the first tempest heralding spring drenches the roads, the rivers, the garden plots. It uncovers young daffodil and crocus stems. It pushes away the accumulation of winter’s filth. The wind ripples like a wave through the high pine trees surrounding the house. The crotchety thunder grumbles beyond. New rivers burble along gutters, in low spots between yards, along the street. Tiny grains of hail spatter against the window pane, a lover trying to get my attention.

Inside, my baby whimpers in his sleep. I enfold his sturdy little body in my arms, holding him under my chin, against my chest. The lullaby of my heartbeat soothes him. The dim light from the hallway blurs his soft features. He is drawn by Nature: rose petal cheeks, sea shell ears, snail shell chin. I ease us down onto my bed and wrap sheets like blue sky around us. His eyes open at once and stare at me, frowning. I meet his gaze and smile. His eyes close…. open…. close… open… and finally fold shut like butterfly wings.


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