Last Sunday morning, we woke to an unexpected sight. Nearly two inches of snow covered everything, and that signaled to me that as soon as we got a dry weekend day, it was time to get the deck furniture and flower pots put away. This morning after yoga we had a couple-hour window of dry before the rain to get that outdoor work done. Wind chimes are in, and bird feeder is up. The deck is bare, and soon, snow covering will be a regular occurrence.
The backyard is looking different and is taking a bit of getting used to. Not only is a new house being built next door this fall on the lot that has been vacant since we've lived here (nearly 24 years), but also, after nine years, we decided to give away our above ground pool rather than close it. I look at the empty round spot with a tinge of sadness as I remember years of splashing, shrieking, jumping, games, floating, and fun with kids (and occasionally adults).
Back in 2006 when the teen was seven and turning eight, realizing how much he liked to swim, we decided to put the pool in the yard. We thought about putting in an in-ground pool, but something told me that making that permanent change to the backyard was something we might come to regret. It might make it harder to sell the house when the time came. Putting in an above ground made more sense. It was less permanent and less expensive, and just as much fun. This past year, however, Tom and I got in the pool more than the teen did (and that was a very small number of times). Next year he will be heading to college. He's a six feet tall giant, and just didn't enjoy the 4.5 ft. deep pool anymore. He is more likely to drive himself to a lake when he wants to swim. We got nine great summers of fun out of the pool.
Someone that used to babysit for us who is now married with small children was happy to take it off our hands. We were thrilled that the pool, in very good shape, will bring happiness to some other kids. We now look at the level, bare circle of ground and are thinking about what to do in the spot, other than just replant grass. I think we may put in a patio and maybe get a small fire pit for next summer. Who knows, maybe a hot tub is in the future. However, some part of me feels like we won't necessarily stay in this house forever. I always have one foot out, psychologically.
When we bought this small house back in 1991, I thought it might be a starter home. I didn't feel like it was permanent. Along the way, we haven't outgrown it, liked the neighborhood, and decided we would stay. But I am always thinking, we may not stay. As much as I love my backyard tree, I feel like I enjoy it each time I see it because I know I won't always have it in my view. One foot in.
It is good to think of life this way on some level. One foot in, and one foot out. Everything is impermanent. Enjoy the view now knowing it will change. Seasons change, my backyard tree changes, I change, people I love change - we have so many transitions. They can all have beauty, even those transitions that involve loss, if we keep our view both in focus and just off-focus too. Does this make any sense at all? I hope so.
Have a very nice weekend!
The cherry tomato plants in the whiskey barrel are still producing tomatoes and flowers like crazy. I can't believe it. I have made fried green tomatoes twice and tomorrow may make up another big batch. It is too cold outside for them to ripen any more, and yet they keep popping out! 
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