March 8, 2012

a walk under the clouds

I'm not sure which part of my walk yesterday was my favorite part. It could've been laughing with my son as we pushed (hard) against the wind to get down the road. At times it felt like we were walking on a treadmill and we were stuck, not getting anywhere.

Or, it could've been the warm but nippy wind itself; it was so refreshing after being in the house all day.

I also enjoyed the fact that not one dog came out to challenge us or make our hearts race. It was a peaceful walk despite the noisy air that kept trying to blow us over.

We stopped at a little inlet of the lake to play and relax. I sat in the grass and watched my son. He jumped and tumbled, laughed and rolled around like a wild thing that has finally been released from a cage. Seeing the twinkle in his eyes and hearing him laugh at his new found freedom was maybe, maybe the best part.....

However, now that I think about it, I loved watching all the birds flying over the inlet. 11 grey and white seagulls flew almost directly over my head, and despite all the warnings, I did look straight up at them. (They were kind and left no calling cards in my hair) For the first time in my life I noticed the graceful but sharply curved lines of their outstretched wings-so distinctive from any other bird I've seen.

After the seagulls left, 9 vultures came along and circled over the houses and the lake. They flew like huge, black kites swirling under the grey and white clouds. I was envious of them-they looked completely free of all life's worries. I knew without a doubt they were enjoying the challenge of the wind. At times they fought against it, daring it to try and stop them; at other times they let the wind blow them where it wanted, and they flew in free fall, dipping and swirling through the air. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could hear them laughing in joy, thankful for the spring winds.

I loved watching my son explore the little holes in the ground. We still don't know if they're crawdad holes and we wonder if they're not, who made them? Two days ago my son stuffed some cotton from a cattail down one of the holes and yesterday it was gone. Whoever lives there either pulled the cotton further in to make a downy bed, or shoved the cotton out and it blew away in the wind. He took sticks and poked them down each hole, trying to measure their depth and compare them to the other holes. We noticed some of the holes have deep green moss growing down around their edges while others just have dirt sides. Why the difference?

We found a manhole along the way and laughed at the words inscribed on the lid. Sanitary Sewer. Hmmmm...I wonder what optimist thought that would be a good idea?
On the other hand, it couldn't of been too bad in there; moss and tiny white flowers were growing around the circumference of the hole, reminding me of a grave and tombstone....

We took our time yesterday. We stopped and explored whatever my son wanted to explore. It wasn't my usual forced march and maybe that was the best part? Slowing down? Letting my son take the lead? Knowing dinner was in the oven and there was no need to rush. I know that was the best part for him...

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