Long legs

Summertime

And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Oh, Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry….

 

 

 

 

 

 

In two months and a few days we will know her touch, her eyes, and sounds. Our lives will be surrounded by mystery and wonder. 

 

For the time being, there are only small sights of her existence. A kick, movements underneath my skin, a heartbeat. These tiny pieces, adding up, filling holes in our imaginations.  

 

We talk a lot about her, and we know that she can hear us. I wonder which sounds she catches, which words. Does she hear her father’s deep and soft voice singing to her ‘summertime’? Does she hear me telling M the happenings of the day over dinner? I will miss this time, I know.

*Photos by me, M and Caro Figueroa