Seed Pods

Her hand slips into mine so effortlessly as I walk to pick her up from school. We walk down the ally, grateful for sun and a break from the freezing cold. The seed pods are half open, catching our eyes through the gray and crackled bushes. I pause to show her the pods. I want to see the joy of wonder on her face and she doesn’t let me down. Each seed in its bed. One flies out to her surprised giggle. She cradles the pod and wants to save it forever, but I remind her that they were meant to fly. They only have one chance to grow. She runs and they come out, leaving a downy trail of white floating seeds. I want to hold these moments, as she tries to catch all the seeds and put them back again. We let them go as we walk hand in hand.

I have no doubt I could capture more of these moments, like I worked so hard to capture in Brazil. I’ll look back on this phase of my life with the same nostalgia that I do now with thoughts of Brazil. But not right now. Sometimes it is just so hard to find myself. I would kind of rather just live in the past.