My son and his grandmother at a family wedding in London, 2006. Photo: Su Leslie
The boy-child left home earlier this year. Always an independent soul, he has adapted well to living in a flat and seems happy — if not as well-fed as he was at home.
Do I sound like a bad parent if I say I don’t miss him?
To qualify that: I don’t miss the conflict and tension that characterized the months before he moved out. And while I am still quietly celebrating a full fridge, an empty laundry basket and a cheerful offspring, I am a little nostalgic. My child has grown up and our relationship has changed.
Home handyman. Image: Su Leslie, 2001
Learning to cook, aged around 8. Image: Su Leslie, 2006
On holiday in Munich, 2015. When will we next travel together as a family? Image: Su Leslie.
I do miss the funny, energetic child who filled my life for 18 years, but celebrate the capable and self-sufficient adult he has become.
Spring morning. Lucas Creek at Greenhithe Wharf yesterday. Image: Su Leslie, 2016. Edited with Snapseed.
Greenhithe Wharf is only a few minutes from my house, and sometimes forms part of my morning walk. For the last few months, I’ve been photographing the view up Lucas Creek — although a wet winter has meant that mostly that view has been shrouded in low-lying cloud.
Yesterday the tide was full, the sun was shining and despite the fact that our current 10-day weather forecast is for rain, and more rain, it does finally feel as though spring has arrived.
Lucas Creek at Greenhithe Wharf, Auckland, NZ. July 2016. Image: Su Leslie. Edited with Snapseed.
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature— the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
— Rachel Carson
This post was written for Sally D’s Mobile Photography Challenge at Lens and Pens by Sally. This week the theme is nature.