Yesterday was the epitome of a fall day in the Midwest: Sunny, 60 degrees, a light breeze, fall leaves. We went for a long walk; you slept the entire time, lulled by the crunch of yellow leaves on the sidewalk as your stroller rolled over them. I took in the day. The moment. It was so peaceful, making circles through California Park, watching the sun beat down on the Chicago River.
When we returned home, you woke up, voraciously hungry. I feed you outside, as I told you we had to enjoy the nice weather while it lasts, because soon the snow arrive. And instead of depressing me, as it usually does when I think about the ice and cold that is to come, I smiled--the image of you in the snow, a winter hat on your head, Christmas, all that it used to be returning now.
After you ate, we picked two tomatoes from our garden. I held them up to your nose so you could smell them. I said, "tomato." I said, "red." I watched your eyes focus on the tiny balls that one day I hope you like to eat.
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Another lovely entry, E. Hope he also likes the tiny balls called "grapes," too! We must plant a grape vine for Noah when he is older. :-) Nonni
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