amy kane blog

You never forget how to ride a bike.

When we lived in Boca Raton, Florida, Anna was in first, second and third grades and she biked the 1.8 miles to school most mornings (with me or her father biking behind her) and then we met her to bike home in the afternoons. Now she’s a lovely, delightful, accomplished, independent (except for putting sunscreen on her back), amusing, gainfully-employed 22-year-old living and working in Somerville, MA near Boston. She doesn’t have a bike there.

We swam in warm water today. We also haven’t done much of that for many years. Silvery fish swam around us. My daughters swam together longest, while their father and I were old folx upon the shore. And their hair was long and red and wet and they laughed and told each other secrets and stories they wouldn’t tell us and we wouldn’t want to know anyway.

I do not want on Sunday to go back to the future, to the gray and brown and patchy white of New Hampshire, to an often-empty house, in the cold of a long winter, oh no I do not.

I took this picture of an ibis in the backyard of our two-more-days rental: Ibis! It is so white and still and has such an oddly blue eye.