Monday, February 4, 2013

At Eleven

Siddhartha at camp last year
I believe it is a sort of sensation, to reach the second decade of continuance. A tenth of life behind and an endless range of possibilities ahead. At the surface, the air is still thin, clear and fair. The days are fresh water, played out in the ease of childish pleasure. Internally, the colors are brighter, the bloom is heavy, and the air is thick as fruit begin to ripen. 

Eleven is a crossing, a cloverleaf; the bridge to a larger path. Our eldest son has reached this pivotal mark. Where his demands are a bit grander. His sense of understanding, based on a more worldly view. His expectations higher as his capabilities grow. Responsibility and frustration become evident with the natural sense of development. Yet, he still carries with him a box of youthful treasure: an innocent wonderment, the earliest light of a sunrise, and the delight in daily adventures. He is still a kid. A treat to say that he is my kid.

A summer day at the pond, which was spent climbing boulders

Happy birthday, my brilliant son!


  1. Welcome back, I missed reading your posts. You are so right about being eleven. Before that I can remember living for the day and after I could see the future. You treat us in sharing your children's lives with us.

  2. to see the love of a child...and oldest reached ten this year as well...what a cool name as much ahead of each of them...

    good to see you..smiles.

  3. Happy Birthday to this young man ... have a great great day :-)

  4. Wishing the big guy a very happy birthday and many more adventures in the coming decade. A truly heartfelt post my a mom. :) Cheers...