Sunday, January 1, 2012

A New Year for Pigeon

It was a vary rainy New Year's Day. Pigeon lay snug in his mother's lap, listening to raindrops soak the windows. There was no snow on the long, green grass outside. Bare brown branches danced in the wind that blew across the chimney like breath over a bottle. It made a noise like music in the fireplace. Someday you will make music of your own, Mother said, kissing his forehead.

Pigeon wondered what else he would do someday. Would he stand up and walk, tall as a tree, like Father? Would he drink hot coffee from a wide, stout mug, like Mother?

Perhaps he would twirl and dance on his toes or kick a ball in the grass, like his cousins.

Maybe he would stir chocolate chips into bowls full of batter, or paint icing onto jack-o-lantern cookies with his aunts.

Would he visit the ocean and dig in the sand with Grammy ? Dip his toes in the frothy edges of waves? Would he ride in an old-fashioned car with his Grampy? Slurp ice cream in mounds as big as himself with a spoon?

Pigeon would have his first birthday when leaves once again decked the branches with gold. By then this new year would almost be over. This will be a busy year for you, little one, Mother said. You will have so much to learn and see and do.

But Pigeon didn't hear her, for he was sound asleep. For now, all he had to do was snuggle, and coo, and doze, and dream, and suck up all the love that fell upon him like the rain that soaked the windows on that rainy New Year's Day.


  1. I read through all the stories and I love them! And I love seeing pictures of your son. He's beautiful!

  2. Thanks, G! Glad you were able to visit! I miss our old bantering and I'm so glad you are blogging again! Happy weekend to you!


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