the cocoon is opening

i've been watching spring in the making here in southern california. buds slowly unfold on trees, the smell of a thousand beautiful flowers bloom, pollen floats in the wind. my morning walks are filled with this new life.

but i will miss the winter this year. spring means that the cocoon has opened up and the outside world is with us more and more. francesca is now four and a half months old. i stood on the sidewalk with her the other day while she watched cars zoom down the road. i wondered what she thought of them, not knowing just yet that they are cars. i remind myself daily that she hasn't seen this or that yet. and i can't wait to show her. 

except that i can.

i've quietly noted francesca's days and months and jotted down all her newness. this time, i am hoarding it to myself, like a secret. for her? for me? i don't quite know. maybe if i keep it to myself the time will slow down. 

tomorrow, i will celebrate you spring. today i am still with winter.