And then the carefree child, grateful for the experience of being—the joys of learning and sharing with others, the richness of growth and discovery—dashes across the beckoning bridge and on to new things on the other side.
The End
#
#
The digital version of our March–April 2011 issue will go live later today. This issue will be Mothering‘s last—the magazine is no longer being published in print or digital format. Here’s how our publisher, Peggy O’Mara, put it on her blog.
After 35 years of making magazines, the staff at Mothering is obviously deeply saddened by this change—even as we understand that continuing to print would be financially unsustainable—for many reasons, including the loss of several very dear fellow staffers.
I’m sure I’ll feel the need to blog more about this later, but for now, there’s work to be done. As Peggy wrote, Mothering still exists, but as a website and online community—and there’s a lot going on there!
#
Our final cover image is a reprise of a photo by Cheryl Steinhoff which we ran in an July–August 2008 article about the simple pleasures of summer.
#
M
ore on the way certain photos can 
Happily, Mel got some really fabulous sunny winter-kitchen shots. It’s fascinating to me how it works—this business of creating an illusion. To look at Mel’s photos, you’d never guess they were shot at my house, let alone in a kid’s bedroom.
October was a rich month for me: the exciting and profound experience of 
For optimal sense of adventure and exhilaration of discovery: 
For connection to one’s roots and a revitalization of the body’s sense memory: when you have the opportunity, be sure to swim (er, stand? Water was way low this year.) in 
Ibid. Take at least one nap in the very same bed you slept in as a child. (While resting, sneakily snap a photo with your phone to send from bed to your sister in Ohio, whose matching twin bed is right next to you and who you really wish were napping in it right now.)
For future fortification: No one should be expected to deal with the impending onset of winter in the mountains without first having had the chance to dig her toes into the still warm sand of a North Carolina beach in October. (This particular beach is Ocean Isle, these particular feet having just run in the 30th annual Oyster Festival 10K run with those of her father, laughing and chatting—us, not the feet—all the way.)
For a sense of belonging: Lie in the sun and thaw out with your beloved fellow travelers after a few hours spent deep within the earth, exploring the 56-degrees-year-round 
Said the shocked (and . . . well . . . not-so-timely) blogger, realizing that we’re now a third of the way into the month.
#
New experience for me. In my most recent travels. . . one weekend (while attending the 7th International Black Midwives and Healers Conference), I was watching the sun rise over the Pacific Ocean; the next (while visiting my parents in southeastern NC), I was wading in the Atlantic at dawn
© 2009 Mothering Magazine