Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Spring

I am walking my children to the school bus stop. At eye-level, I see the delicate blossoms on the apple tree. They are angels, garbed in flowing white, waiting to receive their souls in the form of an apple. They whisper sunny incantations, and pray against frost.


There’s no time to ponder their beauty. Six-year-old Eleanor is impatient, standing at the curb waiting to cross the street. Her speed is hampered by her entourage; four-year-old Sylvia and two-year-old Eli can’t keep up. She waits, dipping her foot into the street as if testing the water in a pool. With her tongue, she searches her gums for the tooth she recently lost.


Eleanor is looking forward to this kindergarten day, in which she’ll field-trip with her pals to the Children’s Theater. She has selected her clothes accordingly: short-sleeved tie-dyed shirt under a plaid-front satin dress, with red leggings underneath her hot-pink faux suede boots. She is part ruffian, part fashion-model.


Looking into the flower beds at the bus stop, Eleanor finds a worm. She speaks to it first, so it won’t be afraid. Then she picks it up and shows it to Sylvia, Eli, and the other kids at the stop. Eleanor boards the bus in her fancy dress, happily smelling like dirt.


Long after the bus has departed, Eli continues shouting, “Bye-bye bus! Bye-bye Nelnore!”


Our numbers reduced, we head for home. Sylvia jumps onto a neighbor’s railroad tie and puts out her airplane arms for balance.


Passing the apple tree again, I think I see the blossoms give way to tiny beginnings.

13 comments:

Pate Family said...

So sweet- I love her dipping her feet into the street and feeling where her tooth was.

jc said...

There's so much to spring and children and worms and dirt, isn't there? It seems the eternal return is always brand-new, and maybe it is. These aren't "children" walking their 'sis' to the mysterious bus which inexplicably takes Eleanor to that still-only-imaginary place big-people call school. These are your kids, that's the apple blossom you saw on that morning, and no one has ever lost that tooth or comforted/disturbed that worm. It's always new within the same; always strange within the familiar.
Thanks.

Little Monkies said...

I've missed reading your beautiful writing. Wishing I was walking with you around Greenlake, thinking of my dear friend so far away but always in my heart.

Love you.

Kendra Joy said...

Ahh, Spring. Your description here grants me hope that Spring will come and will bring along with it the glorious new life we have come to expect. What a wonderful time of year.

Around here the Tulips keep reminding me that even though there have been many cold and drizzly days of late, that warm Spring season _is_ coming. What hope!

Lastly, your children amuse me and warm my heart. Your descriptions are so artistic and beautiful. When they look back on how you wrote about them while they were young, your kids will be reminded of what an amazing mother you are.

jen said...

something about the warmth and the color - the renewal of it all.

Amy said...

I loved Eleanor's outfit!! Maybe she'll be a fashion designer...

bgirl said...

i can just see you and the kids as you describe so well. crazy to think how precious these 'daily' moments are. you captured this one so well.

Anonymous said...

I love this line: "They are angels, garbed in flowing white, waiting to receive their souls in the form of an apple. They whisper sunny incantations, and pray against frost." I've been admiring all the beautiful blossoms here in Colorado and your description captures them perfectly.

I didn't know that Eleanor had lost a tooth. We're still waiting on this rite-of-passage for Ethan.
-alicia

Daisy said...

I love your writing style. Just beautiful! You are very talented and bring the reader just right in the middle of your little moment. Fabulous!

FENICLE said...

This was beautiful. What an awesome post!!

Lori said...

Spring is here and yet we are all still having to wear parkas... I'm waiting for Spring to truly burst forth!

This was a beautiful description of a beautiful moment. For me, this was a lovely example of finding the sacred in the ordinary.

wheelsonthebus said...

How hard it must be to put her on that bus each day, see her so grown up yet still your baby, then turn around with reduced numbers.

Ally said...

Emily-- Actually, at this point, putting Eleanor onto the bus is surprisingly easy. There are days when I am counting down the years until they are all in school. Then days when I enjoy having them home. You know.