I'm afraid to say it out loud for fear that it will not come to pass…
the forecast high for tomorrow is 74 degrees. We've been consistently hovering around 90 of late, so the sound of "74" sort of makes me feel like dancing.
I won't though. I will spare you that atrocity.
To make matters even snugglier, it has rained on and off since last night. Big fat drops and slow drizzle, thunder-y, rolling, dark sounds off in the distance ask you to draw nearer to those you love and pull the covers 'round. It's glorious.
Before the rain began though, we managed to get in a good long walk through the woods and down to what passes for a creek.
These are the finds the boys thought worth listing in their journals:
Deer poop, and lots of it. Tracks too. They wanted to know if it was just one or two "deers" who poop a lot, or a whole bunch of deer? And "do they eat only black beans?" because their poop resembles it very closely.
We found a nest that was hanging at an awkward and unintended angle from a low bush. My men were fascinated to find that there were bits of paper woven in among the vines and leaves, and astutely observed that part of our home is made of the bird's world, and part of hers is made of ours.
Not two feet away, we saw this little skull (about 2 inches long) and marveled at how light the bone is. It's translucent, like parchment, when you lift it to the sun.
It is fantastic to think that such a fragile thing as this houses a brain that knows how to fly, how to build a nest, how and where to go when the season demands it.
We brought home pockets full of abandoned snail shells of various shapes and sizes, and a golf ball, as an added bonus. Where did they go – the snails and the golfer?
We found a great big bone that we think must be from a cow, but we can't imagine how it got to our suburban creek.
We saw some some kind of bug that resembles a wasp, "only cooler cuz he's black with purple wings," coming out of a neat little hole in the ground. We want to know how he gets his hole perfectly round.
We tried to draw perfectly round circles and didn't fare so well, so just how is it that bug with an ever so much smaller brain is able to do it?
We found flint and quartz and limestone, blackberry vines, poison ivy, three kinds of oaks, cottonwood and pecan trees, along with the evidence of various critters feasting on each of those trees and their parts.
We closed our eyes and agreed that the wind in the cottonwood leaves above us sounds almost identical to the bustling giggles of the creek at our feet.
We found ants disposing of what we think was once an opossum – only a bit of the skull and tail remained. That answered a long standing question for us – why precisely did God make ants?
So you see, we've had a good bit of rambling over the land, and are well and fully content now to just sit and draw, record our thoughts, play board games, read, knit and maybe even just watch the drops fall, one by one.
What my men do not know, is that I find as much awe in the amazing creatures that I observe in my own home as I do in the ones that we encounter on our far flung journeys.
And what do you see from where you sit?