The last couple weeks of summer brought bickering and laments of boredom. The weather hung gray and unpredictable over our heads, and I struggled to focus on anything while they struggled to transition to a new school year.
They love school. They look forward to starting, eyes bright with anticipation for what the year will bring. The space between, though, feels heavy with almost-doneness and not-yet-startedness. We hear the clock ticking as we wander through aisles of school supplies and try on clothes to see what fits.
By the time the first day arrived, they woke up without alarms, though I did happen to start the hair dryer just about when I wanted them to awaken. We took pictures and double checked backpacks, and we walked a route so familiar we could all do it in our sleep.
After treading those same steps I’ve done so many times before, I should be used to the quiet when I return. I should relish it, maybe, and I probably will tomorrow or the next day, when I smooth over the transition of a new year. Still, when I saw their “first day” signs, tossed onto the ground from the porch, I paused.
I heard the camera click on my phone. It doesn’t seem loud most of the time, with chaos unfurling around me. It echoes today, though, and I hate that I can’t get the right amount of light into the frame. It glares or falls into shadow. I take the shot anyway and walk into my office.
In what will seem like moments, we’ll find our new footing. But for today, and probably for several days, I’ll miss them. And I’ll wish I would have had just a few more moments to capture summer’s light before it fades into fall.
ETA: Still haven’t found that groove, as evidenced by my posting of this today, two full weeks after I wrote it and had “add photo to post” on my list of things to do. I still think we’ll get there, I just need the earth to slow down for just a few days…