Letters to the Tooth Fairy

tooth fairyI have two sons whose personalities are as different as the seasons.  The younger at age fourteen, is tow-haired, blue-eyed, sensitive,  free-spirited, emotional, empathetic and kind. The elder, at sixteen, is dark in coloring, taciturn,  responsible, diplomatic, witty and charming.  The younger enjoys exotic and spicy cuisine – the elder prefers a more conventional menu.  I can’t think of anything I did differently in raising them, so chalk their differences up to genetics.  Recently, while cleaning out a toy closet,  I came across two letters both penned by my sons and more interestingly, both addressed to the tooth fairy.  In between the lines of their childish scrawl written so many moons ago, their personalities once again are evident.  One airs on the side of sentimental, the other strictly capitalist in tone.  Can you guess who is who?

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WordPress Daily Post – Look Up

“Sometimes,  if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known”

Winnie the Pooh

delaware
View from the Delaware Memorial Bridge July 2016

 

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WPC – “Spare” – The Lonely Sweater

Spare (Defined) “Not currently in use; in reserve”

Glancing in the window of a recently closed children’s consignment shop, I spotted this tiny, orange sweater hanging forlornly in the now abandoned store front.  I pondered why this one vibrant item adorned with teddy bears, remained.  Perhaps a testament to a dream that was not to be or more simply that the sweater was left in haste?  I like to interpret it as a statement of fortitude left behind from the proprietor.   A symbol that whatever the future brings, he or she will survive.     I shall leave the interpretation to you gentle readers, but this melancholy image brought to mind the word spare for this week’s challenge.   

sweater

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WPC – “Landscape”

 “The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and beauty in the world.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

city1
Central Park at Dusk

 

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WPC “Half-Light”

halflightNature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

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