sidewalk scribbling

Wollaton Park must be beautiful right now - trees bursting in a kaleidoscope of greens, wildflowers carpeting the track that goes around the lake, willowy branches casting dancing shadows on the walking trails and the beautiful mansion standing regal on the hill top, framing the blue summer sky. Wouldn't it be nice to go for a picnic, pack some sandwiches and crisps, pick up coffee afterwards from the cafe, lay out a blanket on the grassy slope along with scores of other people, with their dogs and babies and footballs and talking parrots (it happened once!).  But of course, the 'New Normal' has rendered the above scene pretty impossible (for now). On the other hand, I have seen my tiny backyard become more enchanting this summer than ever before. The neighbour's tree leans over the fence, it's branches casting a perfect shade on our side. It has leaves of an indescribable colour, each a rainbow in itself with shades of green and rust and maroon and brown and...

I think all parents in the world are in on a secret that they keep hidden in the deep dark silken pockets of their minds - giving birth is no walk in the park but the actual trek up the mountain starts the day you bring baby home. The first month is a whirlwind, especially the first two weeks where you lie in anxiety ridden sleep deprivation, wondering if you will ever be able to read a book and have a cup of tea again, and will life ever be the same? Two months from then, I can safely say yes to the first question and no to the second one. But then nobody plans to have a child with the intention of keeping their lives the same - even the most inexperienced of us have a solid inkling that life is going to change significantly once we have a tiny tot in the crib. After my initial conviction (despite friends and families' assurances to the contrary) that I am the one odd lady who just won't be able to handle parenthood, I think I have, for now, cautiously disembark...