I Hear the Crickets....

Fig in her birthday dress in the Helicopter cottage here at the Winvian.

.....it's 12:25 A.M. and I hear a choir of crickets from our perch in this Treehouse. Can you hear them? How loud they are, how insistent in the darkness.

We toured almost all 19 Winvian cottages tonight, and they're amazing, from Library to Secret Society to Artist to Camping. Helicopter [above] has a real 1968 U.S. Coast Guard helicopter right in the middle. Library has secret wood bookshelves; open to reveal a closet. These luxury hideaways are so surprising. You can't believe what you'll find behind the front door.

And when we looked up to the heavens, the starry sky was clear and crisp. We could see every star, as you can in the country. Fig pointed out the Milky Way, as H. does.

I'm about to take a bath with the L'Occitane shower gel provided......then snuggle up and go to sleep. I want to go to yoga @ 7:30 A.M. but might snooze instead. The spirit is willing but the body is weak.

Midnight struck on August 24....Figgy's 17th birthday....while we sat around a bonfire with other writers and mommy bloggers...women all....we made smores.....and sipped wine [those of us who are of drinking age, not Fig]. When the iPhone clocks hit 12, we sang Happy Birthday to a smiling young girl.

But this birthday is hitting me hard. Seventeen. Not far from 18, adulthood. Moving out, moving on. That gentle baby girl, who reminded me of a baby bird when they handed her to me in the hospital--because she knew I was her mother, as a baby bird knows its own, and came trustingly into my embrace, under my wing, as though she knew she belonged there--will one day leave the nest.

God bless her and keep her safe.

"I bet this is a birthday you won't forget," I said. "You know how I always love to ask people about their most memorable birthdays?"

"Yeah," Figgy said with a smile.

One day in the far, far future when I have joined the stars up in the sky, I pray that my girl will remember the farm-to-table salad we ate, the artisanal cheeses and baby chocolate mousse, the sketch she did sitting next to me, the Swedish massage [we were allowed one spa treatment and I gave it to her for her birthday], the bikes we rode, the whimsy and good fortune of our time in the Treehouse.

And if she doesn't remember the specifics, I trust she will remember the feelings, and that they will keep her warm--the feelings of being secure, loved, nurtured, pampered, strong, admired and adored, with her mother cheering her on. The feeling of living a colorful life.

I'm crying now, at the thought of a world one day with Figgy and not me. I like the idea of always being there for that gentle baby bird.

Good night.

TCOY 

1. Rode our bikes a little here. Fun. 
2. Walked through the garden--sunflowers, Swiss chard, basil, lots more.
3. The farm-to-table salad. Yum.
4. Nap.
5. The bath I'm about to take, even though it's now 1:17 A.M. Must take advantage of that big soaking tub.