Rain and Sun

Some lovely things I've heard lately:

From Dan this morning, putting his arm around me as I handed Felix his milk: "I like our family."
From Felix yesterday, cupping my cheeks as I carried him to the car: "You are my love. You are my beautiful girl."

It's now warm enough out for Felix to play in his sandbox in the rain, which is what he did yesterday before dinner. He found it extra fun to make sand "cakes" while wearing his green frog raincoat (thanks Ann!) and yellow rainboots (thanks Swift!). It's showery this time of year, but we had a beautifully sunny weekend, and the rain is behaving more like summer mountain storms: dramatic buildup of dark clouds, lightning and hail, then sun. Much better than relentlessly cloudy skies day after day.

Thoughts of Elise have sunk deeper into me now, not so much on the surface of raw nerves as coloring my gaze, suffusing my voice, guiding my touch. I don't think I need to look for the evening star to feel her and miss her. She is everywhere. I see her long toes when Dan wears his flip-flops. I miss her when Felix longs for a playmate in his boredom, still bouncing around after we've exhausted ourselves rough-housing with him. I sense her in the finally-leafed-out aspen in the front yard, the spectacular flowering crab tree in the back, the peony that doubled in height in a week, the tulips brilliant, now waning and dropping their petals.

She continues to blossom and grow with us.