It is seven thirty in the evening and nobody is home.
The house takes on a different hue.
No sound other than the gentle tick tock of the clock.
It is tranquil.
The Kitchen is asleep.
This light and quiet reminds me of the feeds
in the middle of the night on the maternity ward.
I enjoyed nothing better than to sit in the rocking chair
with a little tiny babe in my arms and a tiny glass bottle of warm milk.
Feeding baby while its mother slept.
Does this happen much anymore.
I think not, the nursery has gone.
This seems such a long time ago now, but
when we had our first babies, we stayed in Hospital for a week.
And on the last evening, can you believe this....
we were allowed to go out for a meal with our husbands
while the Midwives looked after our babies !
Those were the best days.
Only thirty years ago.
What has gone wrong.
Too many people.
Not enough time.
No room to breath.
So all my babies may have left my nest.
But they fly back often.
And when they do the house bursts into life again.
I go to bed and do not worry about that little cry in the night.
The patter of little feet coming up the hall and into my bed.
Just pray the phone doesn't ring now.
It is nice to quietly reminisce.