Timeless

I need to take a break from my regularly scheduled programming of laundry and dishes and vegging out in front of the TV to do a midweek blog entry, and tell you about our walk this evening.

No pictures, alas.  Like so many of the best things in life, this evening's walk was full of doing and being, with nary a phone in sight.

It was a sumptuous September evening.  The sun slanting through our neighborhood was brilliant and bordering on hot, but in the patches of shade a bit of fall-crisp touched the air.  The sidewalk gardens are more beautiful this week than they've been all summer, I think, crowding in their glory in one last, effulgent burst before fall hits for real. Flowers upon flowers, those great spiky stalks reaching above, shimmering a little with bees and gnats and the sunshiny air.

We took it slow, the kids and I.  A gentle fall-evening mosey to Coventry Park, squinting into the sun the whole way there.  Stopping to exclaim over bugs, climb on walls, hop in and out and in the stroller, walk the dog, chase, tag, flop on the ground, giggle.  Our destination was merely a conduit for being out in the sun, getting us to the important part like popcorn gets you butter and salt.  We stretched our walk upwards of 45 minutes just to play for 10 at the park...

But what a grand 10 minutes!  We settled ourselves in the wooden car where the children contented themselves with an extensive, detailed, if somewhat repetitive drama involving our engine breaking down.  Again and again. Over the course of the game it required wood chip removal, water removal, wire removal, and addition of many, many containers of radiator fluid, as well as a new hood.  Twice.

Poor car.

It was remarkable to see Jack and Ivy working together on this game, both crawling into the tire-tube that served as the car engine, or clambering together up the double-height stairs to a platform they'd dubbed "the store" where they would gather up invisible bottles of fluid into their cupped hands.  I wish you could have seen Ivy carrying her pretend bottles back down those giant stairs.  Her little hands held so carefully before her, she would reach the top of a step.  Realizing she couldn't just step down, that she'd need a hand to steady her climb, she would gently "drop" the invisible cargo from one hand, sit down, and lower onto the next step... but not before quickly reaching to her side and scooping her pretend merchandise back up.  She had absolutely no idea what she was supposedly carrying, I am sure of it-- but oh, it was real to her!  So earnest, so determined, serious little face and those sweetly cupped hands right out from her chest...

We moseyed back in time to greet neighbors and dogs and the soft set of sun along Somerton, to stop and chat and watch the big boys ride their bikes. (Jack is in awe of two young men who ride the neighborhood in full police costume, handing out "tickets". He's ready to join up...) We were outside of time for just a little while this evening, and it was good.

So were my two tired little children who were both sacked out by 8:30 tonight.

Life is good, in so many ways.
Drink it up.