Tuesday, April 19, 2011

22-inchTower of Babel

I’ve heard the long, beautiful moans of loons on a nighttime Adirondack lake. I’ve heard a wolf howl close by, its mournful voice raising the hairs on my neck. I’ve heard music that sent chills across my entire body in waves. But I have a new favorite sound because none of the others holds a candle to the quiet coos and mumblings of Violet. We went for a walk today, Violet perched on my chest in a misty drizzle, and at a certain point, she started commenting, softly, as we walked, and I didn't want her to stop. Tonight, as I rocked her and Linda read to us, trying to get her to go to sleep, Violet again started up with her hushed commentary. Maybe I find it so intriguing because I have no idea what she's saying, and I can fill her noises with everything I hope she’s thinking.

150 days old


  1. I bet that she is saying a lot of happy things, because she is one very lucky and beautiful and well loved child. "Hushed commentary." Lovely! A.

  2. Amy - She certainly seems happy - as you said last time, she seems to be at the "(almost) always happy" age. This lasts until they're 18, right?

    But - after reading your comment, I went back and read over the post. I need to stop typing them so late at night - the typos and errors are just so frustrating! And I'm supposed to be a teacher - I suppose there's a mini lesson in here somewhere...

    BTW - loved your article on raising chickens in the new Edible Buffalo. Very nice work.