Seasons change. Summer comes and goes. Winter lingers. Fall and spring fleeting. Cliched thoughts.
Food for thought.
September. On a rocky beach in Jeju Island my wife sat and felt the breeze. Thoughts of beginnings and of change. A spring baby. A boy or a girl?
A heartbeat? Should we have stayed home?
Things always work out. Things have a way of working themselves out. This change is exciting. The end of a hot summer. Three seasons remain.
A spring baby.
The sun must set first before it can rise. Isn’t that how it goes?
My brother never calls me in the morning. He rarely calls me in general. A call from my brother isn’t often good news.
Nor was it.
Our little Peachie, she’s strong. I’ve heard often here that babies collect souls to gain strength. Parts of Souls.
In October, Peachie collected a soul.
It’s almost December. Almost a new year.
It’s chilly. The nights are getting colder. Longer.
The world feels a little colder, at least, for me.
A beach in September. I remember looking at the sun breaking through the clouds onto the water. Thinking about home. Thinking about Newfoundland. About how the smells reminded me of home.
It’s cold now. It’s dark while I write. My fingers are cold while I type.
Bring me back to Jeju Island in September. Before the sun set.
Mom would have loved Jeju Island.
Peachie will love it.
Warmth will return to the world again. To my world.
When the sun rises.
When the seasons change.