March already. The skies colour and the tiniest of nips in the breeze are signalling the beginning of autumn, my favourite time. You can almost see the trees pondering the end of the party and the beginning of the cyclical reckonning. Not that it gets that cold in Australia, though these mountains are changeable and perverse at the best of times.
Our baby is coming in a mere month. Nadia thinks he has sunk lower into her pelvis and is assuming a classic 'presentation'. We had our last ante-natal class last night and I could see most of the participants droop at the sight of the babies 24 hour clock, a regime in which sleep assumes a sporadic nature. The baby appears to rule the roost, entirely.
Who is ever ready for their first child? We are reading books and accepting advice but there is a sense that everyone's experience is different.
A year or so ago (actually during a Japanese autumn) I wrote this haiku as part of a group letter. Worth reprinting? I don't know. You be the judge.
thinking of home
I storm the cupboards clutter
finding dry leaves
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