Walking to school this morning:
"Mom, isn't it a gorgeous spring day?" he says, swinging my hand. Yep, I say as I sidestep the worms. The worms, dear god, they're everywhere. Sam looking up, Mom looking down. Sam looking forward, Mom looking back towards the car.
I suggest we still have time to drive, but he ignores me. We are halfway there, after all. "Do you know what today is?" he asks. "It's the Spring Equinox!" It is? I thought it was tomorrow, I say, resolute. We will walk to school, okay. I am being walked to school.
"Mom! Winter left the stage at 11:59 p.m. last night," he tells me. I picture an actor dressed in white exiting a scene and laugh. It left the stage? Where did Winter go? I ask.
"To the southern hemisphere, of course," he says, as if everyone should know this. I think I know this, it sounds right. "It's Fall there and Winter is waiting for them!"
I tell him that we are lucky that we have Summer waiting in the wings for us then, and he agrees. "The birds are happy too, they will begin their migration," he says.
We arrive and I have forgotten the worms and the clouds. My boy, he is my sun.