Growing

This little wiggler is making it's presence known.  I feel little pushings from something that is too small to BE pushing.  It's very early to feel this.  I know.  I've tried to convince myself that it's in my head, but it's not.  This little one wants to remind me, every day that he or she is there and on it's way.  And I can either surrender to the growing or I can pretend that I have all the time in the world.  If I do the latter, I get a headache.  I am waiting, hoping, praying, standing with baited breath for the first winds of autumn.  I am not sure it exists.  I have forgotten what crisp air tastes like in the muggy hot of August.  I hide underneath the shade of my roof and venture out in early morning or after dark.  Waiting for that first breath of cooler air and growing.  Always growing.