Processed with Golden Vintage.
He convinces his little brother they are going to catch dragonflies with old torn fishing nets they found in the barn. They are going to catch them because they have never touched a live dragonfly. He tells me they will capture four and put them in glass jars. We will put them in our bedrooms so we can look at them and enjoy their beauty.
After some time he comes running up to me. Mom, he says with disappointment in his voice, I didn't know dragonflies were so fast.
Another bittersweet moment and I suddenly stop and really listen to my son.
I know all about fast, little one. Those dragonflies have nothing on the speed of the days and months and years that are slipping by. My little babies are suddenly little boys. Another day, another gray hair, another realization that these are the memories I will put away in my mind and dust off in the later years when the house is quiet, clean, and sometimes a bit lonely.
The computer is calling, laundry is piling up, the dishwasher needs to be unloaded, bills need to be paid, the news drones on in the background and it seems mostly bad.
But wait. Perhaps I will grab a chair, sit down, and enjoy watching two little boys chasing their dreams of beautiful dragonflies in glass jars softly beating their wings. Just breathe.
