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Vicki was pooped -- they're running her ragged at work, so I came home to be the primary attention-giver for while (and you know how much I just hate that!). It was a warm, cloudy evening. Figured he'd want to go to the park just down the block from us. Of course as soon as he saw where we were going. He loves climbing the steps and then going down the slide. It's a dual slide and I sit next to him on the way down and sort of hold him ... to keep him from falling ... while we go down.
The undergrowth in the woods was mostly bright yellow, contrasting with the darker greens and browns of the larger trees along the edges, and after we played at woods' edge for a while I noted that most of the underbrush plants had lost their leaves and you could see a deer trail leading down the steep hill to a flatter area in the middle of the yellow trees.
He's only 18 months old and not really steady on his feet on rough terrain or steep hills, so I carried him. I had put him down to stand for a second while I took a picture.... he took a step and sort of fell in slow motion... but I caught him and helped him back up and we continued downhill on the deer trail.
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Some of my best childhood memories involve dry creek beds and just sitting in them and soaking up the scenery or exploring them.
We felt moss on rocks, and rough tree bark, and moss on tree bark. Pulled berries off of some weeds and dropped them on the ground, and climbed on rocks... but they were mossy and slippery so he had to hold on to my hands. Eventually, before he got too dirty or too wet, I hiked him out up the gully wall.
Short, 30 minute, mini-walkabout. No fire or hotdogs. That'll come later..
I think he will enjoy the outdoors.
I can just imagine what kind of father you would have been!
ReplyDeleteLove you, Aunt Pat