I ended maternity leave the first of October. Fifteen weeks after I'd begun it.
The ending also came with a new beginning. A new set of expectations, a new set of worries and concerns: a new daycare provider and even a new, longer commute that brings me past ancient buildings, forgotton farms and furry creatures never before seen in these here parts especially not a hunnerd years ago.
Some days I bring my camera, and if the car is still and the traffic light, I hold my arm out and take a few snaps of the scenery as we pass by.
Annabel sometimes asks to take my camera. And she snaps away, recording the seat back or the top of her brother's head.
Other times she instructs me on where to look: "There's a horse coming up. Take its picture. .... There's a really good tree. Take it. Take it. DO IT. Don't forget the Llamas!"
It's funny how I go past this place every day, and yet I've only been inside twice. Neither time while making the trip from our house to the sitter's. Not enough time. Not enough energy to release two kids from the car and heft one inside while corraling the other; not enough patience, no matter how nice it would be to have a warm cup of coffee and a fresh scone.
I also can't seem to get past this old broken down farm with it's myriad travel trailers and rambling buildings. Maybe it's the curve in the lane that seems like a nice, safe place to let my mind wander from the road a bit. Maybe it's the highs of the trees and the lows of the land with nothing else in between that has me revisiting time and again with my camera. ... Whatever it is, I can't seem to get past this place.
Course, it would be a little easier some days if we weren't traveling East.
"MAMA! Can you tell the man who works the sun to turn it off?"