Loosened from the mud, I find myself floating in a world of possibility.

So can you.

love thursday: the neighboring trees

Soon there will be a new baby on the block. Our neighbor, two houses down, at the end of the block is due in early August. It's been hot here in Minnesota, hot and muggy and humid. I see her walking her other child on the sidewalk in front of our house, her beautiful belly large with pregnancy, and wonder what it would be like to give birth at this time of the year. On the one hand, it would be nice to go out for walks with the baby right after she is born. My baby was born in February and there always seemed to be a reason not to walk: too cold, too windy, too icy, etc. On the other hand I do not like the heat and I imagine being incredibly miserable if I were to be pregnant during this time of year.

These trees line the sidewalk to the northside of our neighbors' house. The helicopter seeds seem like little July valentines waiting to drop and decorate the yard once the baby arrives. The earth awaits the birth of a new little soul and yearns to shower the neighborhood with love.