A serious run of Spring weather has visited us this week with temperatures in the upper fifties nudging right into the sixties. There’s still little holdouts of snow here and there but for the most part it’s mud season. We’re expecting even warmer weather the next few of days.
It’s for this kind of weather that 2 and 3 year olds were invented.
Of course, how they choose to enjoy their very own special weather is always a mystery. Will it be jumping in a puddle or falling in one? Will it be throwing rocks or throwing gravel? Picking up acorn caps or poking them where they lie? So many choices, and not a really wrong one in the bunch.
I took Zane for a hike yesterday. About a block from our house, part way down a dirt road, is a trail into the woods. Another half a block down this trail is a beaver dam and running water. “Zane do you want to see the beaver dam?” I asked. “Beaver dam?” he replied, and since the ‘NO’ word wasn’t in the reply that means maybe. So off we headed, hand in hand, he wearing big rubber dinosaur boots and a light jacket. I must say that we made it further than we ever have before he stopped to play with gravel: almost half a block. Then there was the goat trailer (have I mentioned he likes trailers?), then there was even more gravel and soon a little rivulet of running water in which to try tossing gravel. After about ten minutes of this I started composing a little story idea in my head whereby I’d set out to discover just how long a kid this age can really play with gravel. No parental interruptions, just a boy and as much gravel time as he needs.
Well, yesterday wasn’t going to be the time to find out, I had to get back to work eventually. We slowly worked our way down to the beaver dam (an abandoned dam) and then back to the house (the two photos below). Later in the evening we went out for another walk and this time I let him go almost half an hour playing with gravel before approaching evening and mounting boredom called my bluff. Some day.
Watching him play with the gravel last night I got to wondering if adult hobbies are based on things that our parents didn’t let us get sick of doing as a kid.
Oh, and I should mention that he picks up things with either hand and throws with both. Yesterday during our first outing I’d say the left hand was more predominate by a small margin.