I have shared in the past how I love the fact that our master bedroom has a direct bird's eye view of our backyard: the kid's zone.
Yesterday, pulling back white linen eyelet drapes, opening my window, I heard a two-year-old and a four-year-old's conversation.
One was twirling. Her blonde hair whipping as she happily turned clock-wise, counter-clockwise. One had legs curled, tightly pinched, on the A-frame of an old rusty swing set, upside down. They were role-playing: one was Elmo one was elmo's girlfriend. (what the heck??)
It made me smile.
It made me glad I did not stop at two.
Kids are a lot like joining the peace corps: "its the toughest job you'll ever love" (tell me you remember that commercial from the '80's?).
Once I had the camera in hand, I had to pan around of course. My lens landed on this:
Old wooden ice cream creamer turned weed gatherer.
Leaning pink fence; everything else is pink… why should one fence matter?
Over grown garden, dotted perhaps with several lanky weeds.
An old slate stone path, to my rubbish heap does lead