Driving down the dirt road just after sunset, I was gifted with the gaze of an owl.
With only a dated iPhone to capture the moment, I took the best shot I could.
My car headlights illumined the red path ahead, though I didn’t see the bicyclist approaching in the distance (can you?).
Us three, in a mystical convergence just as the sun had slipped away.
This summer we spent time on a remote Canadian island, where clearly there was no urgent need for police protection.
I like the mounted police image right over the gas tank. Is it a comedic allusion to the days of horse power?
I think about my mothering as of late. My routine end-of-the-day litany of
homework?
dinner?
dishes?
shower?
laundry?
I think these promptings are imprinting basic responsibility upon my ten-year old. Fostering time-management skills to the point, that soon, I won’t need to speak reminders, these tasks will just be getting done.
But for now, it feels like I’m just policing, and I’ve been assigned the role of ‘bad cop.’
There’s a beginning of the day litany on this cop’s beat, too, which is scheduled to begin in exactly thirteen minutes. I made a written check list for these, just to save my voice.
But this morning, I want to cool the heat. I’d like a pause on my patrol. I wouldn’t mind at all just being up on blocks.
(thanks to Jump for Joy! Photo Project for sharing this quote from Brene Brown on yesterday’s blog post)
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