Early this morning, before the sun was even a fingernail's-breadth in the sky, I dropped Kevin and Colin off at the airport for their week-long visit to the grandparents in Toronto. It won't be the first time that I've been away from Colin for a week, but it's the first time that the two of them will have travelled without me, leaving me at home alone.
I'm not afraid of being alone--in fact, I'm kind of relishing the opportunity--I'm just afraid of their not coming back. So after saying a quick prayer for safe travel and waving good-bye one more time, I got into my car alone and drove home, listening to Iron & Wine and watching the sun rise over the Prairies.
Rather than focus on the emptiness of the house this week, and how I can't hold my boy or curl up on the couch next to my husband, I'm choosing to focus on all of the things I can do. Like this morning: After I got home, I took the dog for a long walk, and we stalked the jackrabbits and neighbourhood cats still sleeping in the hedgerows. Then I wrapped myself up in a warm blanket and took my breakfast out on the deck to watch the sun stretch its "rosy fingers" across the backyard. It occurred to me that I've never actually seen the yard at this hour in the morning, which is a shame, because it was quite beautiful: a pale, pale gold. And now it is getting much too cold to do it many more times this year.
Fall has definitely come to Edmonton, which seems a shame since we barely had a summer. There are little golden leaves collecting in drifts around my vegetable beds--even though my tomatoes have not yet ripened nor my sunflowers opened up. Still, Fall is one of my favourite seasons: there's an air of energy and excitement and possibility in its crisp mornings. In Germany, Fall smelled like chocolate because of all the bullrushes along the river. In Boston, it smelled spicey and crisp like apples studded with cloves--but that's probably because to me, Fall in Boston is synonymous apple-picking and apple cider and apples pies. I don't know what Edmonton's Fall smells like, but this year I'm going to try to find out.
Now, off to begin my first day as a single woman again.