Sunny … yet sad.
After a few days of dreary and drizzly weather, today was a real winner.
In the past 16 years, it seems as if it has rained on this day, or been gray and gloomy, so I have associated that dismal-looking sky, or rain, with our mood and sadness we feel on each successive September 11th anniversary.
But, today dawned just as sunny and bright as on that fateful day. I vividly recall walking down the driveway that morning, enroute to the bus stop and thinking that I needed to cut the lawn after dinner. Little did I know I’d be home from work much earlier than usual to tackle that chore. Our law office closed an hour after the first attack, and, we had a client emergency, so my boss and I were the only ones left in the office finishing up some documents. He drove me home, taking only surface streets, and I arrived around noon. I still remember what we were working on, even what I wore to work that day – all silly and trivial things, but I think we’re always going to remember the specifics of that morning’s events, not to mention the horrors we saw on TV and in the newspaper, for as long as we live.
Is it soup yet?
This morning, while eating breakfast, I heard the weather report and it was only 56 degrees out. I had the furnace on since yesterday and it felt good, but, even though it was a little chilly outside, I sure was not prepared to don a sweat suit just yet, so I layered up in three t-shirts and swapped the shorts for capris – that worked perfectly. Unfortunately, we’re getting warmer and more humid weather as each day progresses, so no use dragging out a lot of heavy clothes yet.
While walking down to the Park in the chilly air, and anticipating whether the baby snapping turtles had emerged from their hidey hole, I got to thinking about the popular Lipton’s soup commercial from the early 70s, which featured the tag line “is it soup yet?” The kids were sitting at the dinner table waiting for Mom to bring them their bowl of Lipton’s chicken noodle soup and when it was ready, Mom would announce “it’s soup!”
I was thinking that that commercial and its theme could be applicable for the chilly air which left goosebumps on my exposed arms and calves, but, also since that commercial is all about the anticipation of waiting on something special. It is, after all, 90 days today since Mama turtle dug the nest and laid the eggs on June 13th. This would be the last day in the suggested window for the hatching time of those little nippers.
Parker did not meet me at the parking lot entrance and I cut through the lot, then stepped onto the trail with no sign of him. It seemed that squirrels came running from every corner of the first loop of the perimeter path – they were hungry, as I’m sure no walkers were down at the Park yesterday during the all-day rain, and, I guess my furry friends can only eat so many pinecones and mulberries. I stopped and talked to each of them, fed them peanuts, then moseyed on. Leaves were scattered everywhere on the path, giving the morning a real Fall-like feel. The air was crisp, the sky was blue – one could not ask for a prettier day, after we have contended with oppressive heat, endless rain and just plain ornery weather most of the Summer.
I moved onto the second walking loop, eager to see if it was indeed “soup yet” and whether the snapping turtles had hatched. Nope, there was the hole, just as smooth on top as before, with the dirt still damp from at least 24 straight hours of rain. No need to take the camera out of the case as no turtles were breaking out and running for their lives to the nearest creek. Perhaps tomorrow it will happen, and, just as the old adage goes: good things come to those who wait.
Kids … what are you going to do with them?
Waiting was the name of the game for little Parker too, because I was still carrying my Ziploc bag of peanuts as I exited the parking lot at Council Point Park. Well, I didn’t have to wait, or wonder, anymore about Parker. He had apparently missed me walking down Pagel Avenue, so he ran across the street, out of that nearby neighborhood to see me. I cringed as he raced across busy River Drive to meet me. I bent down to talk to him, as if he might understand my warning that it was better not to run across the street, and he should either live in the Park, or the ‘hood, and stay away from the busy roads. I don’t like to be a “helicopter mom” and I am sure it falls on deaf ears, but I did my very best to suggest a permanent address going forward: Council Point Park or Pagel Avenue.