To 'make it right' the sleep of a four-year-old boy, my dad an | Precious Love

To "make it right" the sleep of a four-year-old boy, my dad and I would wake up early to take a walk at dawn. Cool breeze. But it does not, even a little, dampen the coolness of my father. If he is nice, we would jog. All smiles at him, I would then try to hurry my little steps. I don't mind gasping for air. And he is wary if I ever stumble (lest he won't be cool to me, right?) After an hour or so of circling five to six houses, ours included, we would make a fire from dried leaves collected the day before. I could still smell those autumn leaves as they turn into ash and scattered by the air. A must do every twilight like a freshly toasted bread against a scrape of butter and brewed coffee. Nostalgic.


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