Wednesday, April 29, 2015

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (21 months), at Sibon for our annual family holiday

Sunshine halos around your head and long shadows from early morning light. Shoes off before breakfast,rusk in hand while tentatively exploring the camp, traipsing after your cousin - three pink strollers bumping over rough terrain. A fascination of footprints (Florence) and the reference to hornbills as ducks (Anna). Family every which way you turn from your great grandmother to your brand new four week old cousin. Afternoon drives wearing safari hats and riding shot gun up front, saying hi to beasts and birds or just playing with dashboards and gear stick of the old landey. Chaotic communal meals, a sunset lighting the whole sky on fire, seeing fish in the clouds. That magical hour of dusk when you're full of life and you run around laughing and jumping and dancing and hugging each other, each passer by throwing you up in the air or embracing you in their arms. Climbing into the bath altogether and all dirty. Then night fall, and quiet, and clean babies fall asleep in my arms under the mozzie net. 

Of all the places we've been, I love being here with you the most. I see a sense of adventure being planted in you as play in mud under the grand old tree out front, or as you ride on the landey with dusty wind flying through your hair, I see a love of nature beginning to form as you examine a strange beetle in the soil, or feel the velvety tips of a succulent leaf, I see a love of the outdoors and fresh air starting to form as we're out doors from sunrise to sunset, and I see the value of having family around you all day. And I am grateful.


Wednesday, April 22, 2015

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (20 months) - Florence (top) and Anna (bottom)

"I became a mother and for me, it was then that I truly began to see the world."
dajielle aceino

Feathers on the ground become wild crowns of warriors, clouds in the sky become jumping fish. There is a story to be told about light and shadows and reflections, there is fascination of fountains, of injuries and cures, and sunshine and turning around and around until your head spins with dizziness as you fall to the ground laughing "'gain, 'gain."  


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (20 months)

I often have an urge to write down step by step what happens in our day. Because not only do I want to remember the production of it all - how we get downstairs, how two toddlers are dressed and fed and changed (again and again), the antics that occur before we even sit down for breakfast, how we nurture and negotiate the growing wills and wants of two little people simultaneously... I also want to remember the quotidian of it all. The ordinary, repetitive, everday-ness.  The moments that become life and then memories I want to share with the girls.


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (20 months) - Florence (left) and Anna (right)

Easter Sunday at Kimmy and Bear's home. The last of our warm afternoons for a while. Foot loose and fancy free. You don't often venture much beyond my hip, or let go your hold on my leg, but in Kimmy's garden your confidence blooms. You venture off together, exploring, playing, testing a slowly-budding independence. Confident in the knowledge that you merely have to glance over your shoulder to see the many faces you love, and trust.

Baby days, padded barefoot baby days.
Carefree, wild hearted, soft spirited baby days.
Wet grass under feet days, bare bodies in sun rays.
Giddy free running days, falling tumbling laughing days.
Soft curls blowing, wings outstretched. 
These baby days are my favourite days.

Summer goodnight

Friday, April 3, 2015

We take a walk in our garden every evening after dinner. By the chill on our skin you can feel the seasons are changing.

yellow the bracken
golden the sheaves
rosy the apples
crimson the leaves
mist on the hillsides
clouds grey and white
autumn good morning
summer goodnight


Wednesday, April 1, 2015

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2015 (20 months) - Florence (left) and Anna (right)

Florence your little hands have always seemed to grown up for you, your thumbs rather mature looking on these chubby baby paws. I stare at them often, these grown-up baby hands. Marvelling at the way you hold a tiny object, precisely and decidedly, or the way you open a jar (you love to open pretty much any container that can be opened), or even the way you hold a piece of toast in your hands as we set off for our evening walk in the garden. The same baby hands that hold mine tightly (you say handa, handa when you want to hold hands), the same baby hands that grip your binky, your pillow (pi), and any other item of comfort that may have crossed your path (you have been known to fall asleep clutching an umbrella). Your grown up baby hands like to be full and busy and put to use - one of the phrases I hear most often from you is "ho'em (hold them/hou, perhaps from the Afrikaans?), I think these grown up baby hands give me a glimpse into the person you are to grow into, the person you will be when the hands seem less too-grown-up, and more just-right.

It's been one of those weeks

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Related Posts with Thumbnails

Please note:

{I try to credit all photos and link to their appropriate sources, if there any images here that are not credited correctly or you simply wish them to be removed, please email me and I will do so immediately}

Copyright © Bailey Liackman, buryanddiscover 2009-2013. Please do not use anything without crediting it's origins on your website or blog, including my photography.

bury & discover All rights reserved © Blog Milk - Powered by Blogger