Yesterday, it rained off and on all day and the humidity crept inside to make the 3 (and only 3) long strands of hair on Iris’s head curl up. We’ve been cooped inside for weeks no thanks to our hottest-ever summer, so I grabbed our big red umbrella, stuffed Iris in the carrier, and sauntered out.
I love rain.
There is a small community play park in our neighborhood tucked on a short, no-outlet street a block or two from our house. I used to walk down there in the winter when I was pregnant and huge, sit on a frozen park bench and think about what it would be like in future summers, this first year when she’s only big enough for the baby swings; next year when she’s toddling around, the year after when she’s shrieking and running and cries when it’s time to leave.
Yesterday the wooden benches were soaked deep, the leaves heavy.
A hummingbird swooped down to hover in front of us, looking hopefully at our umbrella. I couldn’t tell you the last time I saw a hummingbird.
I should work on that.