The front porch is the perfect place to watch life reinvent itself, as is always the case with each passing season.  Children run for their school buses, while parents wave (sometimes weep) from a distance.

Scout (my 8 year old German Shepherd gem) and I observe, this nurturing part of our lives long over.  Without a (human) female presence in our home, we’ve become silent in our emotions.  We’ve become complacent in this knowledge, both she and I… though something occasionally stirs.

That tear shed quietly by a young father, loading his little girl onto the bus for her first day of kindergarden.  These moments capture an old soul, and remind it of its humanity.

How long can one fall into this descent?