Time

Each morning, I sit on the porch with my book and my coffee and I look out at a familiar landscape.  On the one hand, the usual plants and flowers feel familiar.  On the other hand, the plants and flowers are growing and changing in the sunny, warm, long days so that each morning affords a slightly new view.

Summertime hours themselves pass both slowly and quickly.  Slowly, because there is time to relax, read an extra chapter of my book, and drink some more coffee before I head to work.  But time passes quickly in other ways, especially when I look at my son and reflect at how fast the years have flown by.  In just a few months he will start his Senior year, his final year at a school that has nourished his mind and heart for 15 years.  I started teaching at our school as the mother of a 2 year old.  Now I live with a 17 year old, a man-child who is both familiar and new.

His summer is filled with running mile after mile in preparation for a fall cross country season that he has been anticipating since the final day of last year’s season.  It will be a school year filled with college applications and plans for his future.  He knows that things are changing but he’s a kid and so change is his constant.  I see a future of even greater changes to come; he simply sees an exciting future.  Both are true, of course, and I embrace all of it, excited for what comes next.