The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Perch
My friend is remodeling her backyard and wants to add a lot of “funky,” kid-friendly places.
This morning I pause on top of the ladder after cutting a dead branch, thinking this is the perfect spot to catch a hummingbird in flight with my digital camera.
Here, up high, I can see in the trees. I hear neighbors walking by and stopping to greet each other. I spot a lizard speeding across the yard. I feel like an eagle. Swooping at him with my camera. Zooming in and adjusting the focus. Shot! Shoot! Fast little beast!
I am having so much fun, I do not want to climb down. Then it dawns on me: Perch!
Perch is one of childhood’s treasured hidden places.
For me, it was the shaky wooden ladder leading to the attic of my grandparents’ house. The ladder was off limits, of course. But as it was obstructed by the row of cherry trees, I could perch there quietly watching the world go by. Neighbors would come for the water from our well. They all had their own water supplies, but our well was magic. It took the central place in the yard. The lever was a 33-feet long log. It was the deepest and the water in it was full of minerals so people from all over our Russian town would come for it. If my grandma was around they would chat and share their news.
I observed neighbors in their yards. The ones with pigs had sturdier metal ladders to their attics, yet, they were cold and hardly ever used. Even though at times I was afraid I would fall down altogether with the whole rackety structure, I appreciated the wood’s warmth and its strategic positioning. For when I was bored, I could pick the cherries right off the trees.
I witnessed my grandparents’ daughter come home for a surprise visit, causing a happy commotion. “Auntie! I saw you first,” I wanted to shout. Then, realizing that I was in a forbidden place, I stopped in time. Once I caught my gentle grandma swearing. I do not remember what caused it, but I remember the feeling of discovery. A new word!
This was a fluid time of childhood when the days were years long.
I give myself time to perch for while this week as I observe, reflect, listen and try to connect to the world that goes by. It was a spring-break week and I feel I have not accomplished much, but maybe what I did was to perch, observe, listen, feel the rhythm of the world going by, and my place in it.
Did you have a place in the childhood where you could look down on adults? Where life went by and, though you were invisible, you were part of it? Do you wish you could retreat to such a place now?
By Dilyara Breyer
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This morning I pause on top of the ladder after cutting a dead branch, thinking this is the perfect spot to catch a hummingbird in flight with my digital camera.
Here, up high, I can see in the trees. I hear neighbors walking by and stopping to greet each other. I spot a lizard speeding across the yard. I feel like an eagle. Swooping at him with my camera. Zooming in and adjusting the focus. Shot! Shoot! Fast little beast!
I am having so much fun, I do not want to climb down. Then it dawns on me: Perch!
Perch is one of childhood’s treasured hidden places.
For me, it was the shaky wooden ladder leading to the attic of my grandparents’ house. The ladder was off limits, of course. But as it was obstructed by the row of cherry trees, I could perch there quietly watching the world go by. Neighbors would come for the water from our well. They all had their own water supplies, but our well was magic. It took the central place in the yard. The lever was a 33-feet long log. It was the deepest and the water in it was full of minerals so people from all over our Russian town would come for it. If my grandma was around they would chat and share their news.
I observed neighbors in their yards. The ones with pigs had sturdier metal ladders to their attics, yet, they were cold and hardly ever used. Even though at times I was afraid I would fall down altogether with the whole rackety structure, I appreciated the wood’s warmth and its strategic positioning. For when I was bored, I could pick the cherries right off the trees.
I witnessed my grandparents’ daughter come home for a surprise visit, causing a happy commotion. “Auntie! I saw you first,” I wanted to shout. Then, realizing that I was in a forbidden place, I stopped in time. Once I caught my gentle grandma swearing. I do not remember what caused it, but I remember the feeling of discovery. A new word!
This was a fluid time of childhood when the days were years long.
I give myself time to perch for while this week as I observe, reflect, listen and try to connect to the world that goes by. It was a spring-break week and I feel I have not accomplished much, but maybe what I did was to perch, observe, listen, feel the rhythm of the world going by, and my place in it.
Did you have a place in the childhood where you could look down on adults? Where life went by and, though you were invisible, you were part of it? Do you wish you could retreat to such a place now?
By Dilyara Breyer
Labels: Dilyara Breyer
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