Little wonders

Last week we biked to school.  Grace had her 9 year checkup so wasn’t going to stay at school.  I ran alongside them on the way there and was reminded of how close we live to school.  Then Grace and I took the bikes home (me riding Whit’s bike: major thigh work out.  Good GOD.).  Whit was so thrilled about this adventure that he put his helmet on before his pants that morning, and talked about it all week long.  I’m so proud that my son is still delighted by such little wonders.

On Friday, 11/11/11, Whit and I sat in the kitchen and watched the various digital clocks tick towards 11:11.  This screen shot was the closest I could get to capturing the moment because the clocks didn’t display the date.  I know, I know – it is an entirely artificial construct, this 11:11 on 11/11/11 thing.  Nonetheless, we both anticipated the moment and shared it with a quiet seriousness that verged on reverence.  Celebrating another little wonder.

On Sunday we raked leaves.  Our “yard” is small, so this takes about 20 minutes.  Grace and Whit put patagonias over their pajamas and spent long moments trying to throw the pods that a neighbor’s tree sheds from the porch into the big yard waste bag.  Then we all fell into silence when a familiar cardinal arrived, perched on our fence, looked around.  They watched him, awed, quiet, admiring a little wonder.

On Sunday Grace and I had what may well have been our last lunch at the American Girl store.  She’s still playing with her American Girls, but I know the days of imaginative play with Julie and Samantha are numbered.  All of her friends have already moved on.  I tried not to dwell on the last-ness of our lunch, but it was hard.  As she looked down at the menu, I snapped this picture.  I love it.  My mother’s childhood nickname for me echoes in my mind as I look at this picture, pressing itself into my lips.  It’s what I want to call Grace.  Mum always called me her little wonder.

Am I the only person who finds the very pavement a bewitching, beguiling, constantly changing poem?  I can’t stop looking down.  Well, that is, when I’m not looking up (aside: maybe it’s no wonder I trip more often than the average non-toddler.  I’m simply so absorbed in life around me that I don’t pay attention to my footing.  Surely there’s a metaphor here…) Everywhere I step I’m walking on color, on pattern, on message and beauty.  Little wonders, all around.

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  1. Posted November 17, 2011 at 4:04 am | Permalink


  2. Trevor
    Posted November 17, 2011 at 6:12 am | Permalink

    That picture of Grace is really beautiful Lindsey.

  3. Posted November 17, 2011 at 7:25 am | Permalink

    I love these “little wonders” that you’ve captured here. I am fascinated by this 11/11/11 thing. I went to an 11/11/11 party, and know lots of people who memorized the moment in different ways. What do you think that’s about? Some human need to…

  4. Hilary Levey Friedman
    Posted November 17, 2011 at 8:25 am | Permalink

    I DIE for Grace’s eyelashes!

  5. Posted November 17, 2011 at 8:35 am | Permalink

    A new favorite post. Beautiful.

    That picture of Grace is amazing!

    And you are still a wonder, Lindsey.

    Thanks you.

  6. Posted November 17, 2011 at 9:40 am | Permalink

    I love that close-up of Grace. Those eyelashes!

    I’ve been looking down a lot lately, too – at the leaves in all their varied color. Thanks for sharing all these little wonders.

  7. Posted November 17, 2011 at 9:40 am | Permalink

    Gosh I needed this today. Thank you.

  8. Posted November 17, 2011 at 10:13 am | Permalink

    I have been cherishing the arrival of your posts in my inbox, knowing they will bring me a moment of appreciation, wonder, peace. Thank you for your gorgeous writing and photos.

    I thought you might appreciate knowing that my little girl, Lucy, formerly of “only pants and boys clothes, Mama!”, has decided that she wants an American Girl doll for her birthday and her heart is set on Julie. 🙂


  9. Posted November 17, 2011 at 10:26 am | Permalink

    Oh Lindsey, what a beautiful integration of words and image, an homage to the little wonders that aren’t really little at all. You are so special, and what you do is a gift.

  10. Posted November 17, 2011 at 12:40 pm | Permalink

    The close-up of Grace could not be any more stunning. Wow. And, as a lover of fall, I cannot help but appreciate those beautiful photos of the leaves…

    Reverence itself is a little wonder.

  11. Posted November 17, 2011 at 3:41 pm | Permalink

    Lovely thoughts, lovely post. It’s the Big Little things, for sure, that make this nutty journey worthwhile, palatable, wonderful. xoxo

  12. Posted November 17, 2011 at 3:48 pm | Permalink

    PS: That photo of G is stunning. And, not too surprisingly, I also am frequently taken
    by patterns of sidewalks. I haven’t crouched down to take a photo recently, but maybe I should start again. xo

  13. Posted November 17, 2011 at 4:57 pm | Permalink

    Ahhh, such a lovely, lovely post. And your pictures! Sweet Lindsey, just lovely. Though we are much more south now than boston, we still have lovely falls. this week i’ve been noticing that the leaves are at their “richest” color…right before they fall. I do miss boston falls, though. I hear you, too, about the passage of time — Grace and American Girl dolls. My little honey, Aidan, there are times he just says something and I think, “Oh my god, he is getting so big, so grown up.” You’ve inspired me. i think I’m going to try and take a picture of my little Clara like you did of Grace…and her beautiful eyelashes. Much love to you. Lisa

  14. Posted November 18, 2011 at 8:54 am | Permalink

    I love reminders like this. You lead such a lovely life, mostly because you notice these little wonders. Like your daughter’s eyelashes – like wisk brooms! Gorgeous!

  15. Posted November 18, 2011 at 8:55 am | Permalink

    Love, love, love love.

    If it gives you hope… Abigail just turned 10 and is still playing, avidly, with Felicity and the gang. (She mostly instructs them, playing teacher… the other day she held parent teacher conferences.)

    I know that reality sometimes can be harsh. But your life — at least from this distance, and through this lens — is one of the most beautiful little wonders I see.