It fell from the tree and left the road and rec looking like the aftermath of a wedding party. It pooled at the roadside, forming pink puddles, so vivid and so beautiful. It made me feel a little sad. The tree I was admiring just last Sunday will be bare within a few days.
Later, I watched Spud dozing in an armchair, as I'm sure he'll do when he's an old man. I thought to myself, this is what it will be like to grow old with him. And I liked that. When it was time to go I put my book away and climbed into his lap, smiling as he resurfaced from sleep.
We walked past the playground, alive with activity, and to the quiet church around the corner. The main door was locked, and so we sat on the step, side by side, but only for a minute because the side door opened and our friendly minister ushered us in. The baptism pool had been erected, and we had a little run through in preparation for tomorrow. We even had a little practice at the immersion part, although not actually in the water. I took in the Easter décor: the cross at the front, the flowers and the banners. I think Spud's baptism tomorrow will be very powerful and moving. But then, baptisms always are. I rarely make it through dry-eyed.