But, life moves fast. There's hardly time to collect blackberries to make syrup, so how could I find hours to spend in a darkroom?
A couple weeks have passed since I have found time to write. Beren's growing growing growing longer and longer. His sentences grow longer and longer.
"This table is Beren's table."
"What is that?"
"Wood frog," upon finding a woodland toad.
"Black cohosh," upon finding a woodland fungus.
I love hearing him stir sentences around in his mouth, trying to perfect his words. Sometimes they don't quite come.
"Pahpo come too." Papa come too. Or sometimes "Mahmo." Momma.
I'd gladly take the name "Mahmo."