Feathery snowflakes dusted the ground. Our first snow this season came and went. Those were the quiet hours, marked by words and diapers. It was entirely too quiet in the dining room. He sneaked from the kitchen with a copy of Little Bear in hand without notice as I finished a load of wash. I called his name. Silence. No giggles or squeals. Oh dear. I peered around the corner and checked the spot on the table where I left my cameras out from earlier. A sprightly classical number was on the radio. An overture of strings and brass swept through. He stood in the corner, perched on the bottom rail of the changing table, a sly grin on his face.
I’m giving this yearlong project a spin. Undoubtedly, I will fall and pick up again. Knowing this makes it easier. Still, I plan to show up to record a short photo and story of my day. You’re welcome to join me. I’d love it really. We can give each other high fives and geek out with a hashtag (#ayearofus), not because everyone is doing it, but because we’re doing it, together. Showing up every damn day to make this creative habit real.