The Long, Fleeting Days

With the passing days of being a Mama I wonder if I will remember all the things about my child that delight my soul and fill my heart to bursting.  The early morning sleepy smiles, the chubby hand absent-mindedly stroking my cheek, the shrieks of joy as he gallops past on the back of my husband, blonde curls bouncing, head bobbing.  The way he struggles valiantly to string words together correctly to form a sentence, his face earnest and furrowed in concentration.  His untainted perception of the world. His love of apple chippies, marshmallows and "teeny" bits of chocolate that he insists on sharing with his Dada.  The make-believe bath time chatter, his love of odd bod toys and bits of scrap paper.  His pride in doing his daily chores like feeding the cat and passing me the bed pillows. Most of all, I wonder if I will recall the exact sound of his laughter that fills our home with the kind of joy that can sustain a soul for eternity.

I am determined to document as much as possible as the years speed by, determined not to let the accumulation of long days bleach my memories of their beauty so they lie like a pile of faded photographs on my psyche.  These precious days are fleeting - one day, too soon from now, he will no longer want to crawl on my lap and press his sticky face against mine for comfort.  Too soon he will have grown up.  Too soon I will have grown old.

Photography: Angela Steyn

Nature's Child

Leo and I like to wander up and down the streets around our house collecting things to photograph.  Mostly we pick up interesting leaves, funny looking sticks, pretty flowers and clusters of berries, all of which get piled into the tray of his trike with stern-faced, serious care.  I love that he is learning to open his eyes to the natural world around him, that he is learning to see beauty in the most seemingly insignificant details of life.  My greatest hope is that it will lead to an ability to be completely present in the moment - a moment filled with wonder and glory.

Photography: Angela Steyn

Feather For my Soul

"Hope is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson

Photography: Angela Steyn

Sunshine of my Life

My child.  You are the embodiment of sunshine.  You are love personified.  You are a mirror for my soul.  

May the Gods always be present in your heart and lay petals on your path.

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