here, there

I'm curled up on the couch with the window open behind my head, dog sprawled out on the rug in front of me, listening to the cicadas and the whoosh and drone of traffic in the distance. I can hear the muffled sounds from the baseball stadium a quarter mile away; a car door slams and a dog barks once, but mostly it's cicadas and cars.

John and the boys took a spontaneous camping trip - his first time taking them camping on his own. They've never gone without me before. But I am here because I need to work, and they are there because we only have a few weeks left of summer freedom, and these boys need all the time -- outdoors, free-running and unscheduled -- as we can give them.

I imagine right now they are all three snug in their sleeping bags, lined up in a row of red, orange and gray. They took the little tent - the one we got when we were first married - because it's just the four of them - one big and three littles. I'm sure John's sitting around the fire right now, probably missing me. And Wilson. But I needed Wilson here, my pal and protector.

I'm glad they went. I'm glad they're there. But I'm feeling a little lonesome right now, wishing I had a way to peek at them right here in this moment.