These days

  These autumn days are wild and windswept.

One moment they are humid and heavy, ripe with old summer gone to seed. Sun-hats and sunscreen and sweaty sheets, kicked off in the night. The next, the air turns cold and these days tumble into thoughts of green apples and roast vegetables. Hot chocolate under blankets, pink rain-boots, and waiting for the leaves to fall.

These days are 10 chubby fingers and 10 chubby toes, waving in the air. New words learned every day; brothers and sisters holding hands; and twirling: joyful, exuberant twirling.

Long hours these days are passed with kisses and big, beautiful smiles. Raspberries blown into fat-creases on perfect little thighs.

Small fingers softly exploring my face.

They are fevers and 'flus; mountains of tissues; long cuddles through sad nights.

These days are taking those first, glorious steps outside into the autumn air, when everyone is finally starting to feel better and the four walls of our house have drawn uncomfortably close: freedom at last. Cafes and coffees, exploring old streets and new, a row of rainbow-hued watering-cans.

All too much excitement for some.