As we are driving down the highway on this rainy day I am typing and looking out the side window at the green cornfields and the dreary skies. The slight rolling hills and vibration of the rv do make this a little more difficult but I will push through. The summer wildflowers are still blooming and the corn in this part of Ohio is tall and dark green with brindle colored tassles which does somewhat brighten the dreary landscape. There is also an occasional freshly painted red barn to brighten things up. The wild morning glories are blooming still although I am sure they are not showing their faces today. The cattails are at their peek.
We have a little swampy area in our city with a trail. Just before this last trip to Wisconsin I ventured out there with my grandson. He did pretty good since he doesn’t think the “nature park” is quite as fun as the park with swings and slides.
It was bouncing between sun and overcast skies that day and we were observing the things that a person doesn’t always notice-like the flowers blooming or the bees humming along sipping sweet nectar to make honey, or that occasional little turtle sunning himself on a nice swampy log. We had a nice walk and I snapped some shots while holding his sweaty little hand and stooping down beside him to observe the world through the eyes of a three year old-every bug that crawled or flew, every bit of mud or water he took notice of. After he would notice something we would have a very serious talk about it and move on to the next area. I think he has a longer attention span for the crawling and wriggling things than I do, but I was patient with him and listened attentively while he told me things- treasuring each moment and word. I enjoy every moment I spend with him. I try and absorb every bit of it because like the seasons this part of his little life will move so quickly and before we know it he will be all grown up. I only hope that I can spend this kind of time with any other grandchildren that come about. I also hope that when I am very old he will hold my sweaty hand and attentively listen to my stories.
We have a little swampy area in our city with a trail. Just before this last trip to Wisconsin I ventured out there with my grandson. He did pretty good since he doesn’t think the “nature park” is quite as fun as the park with swings and slides.
It was bouncing between sun and overcast skies that day and we were observing the things that a person doesn’t always notice-like the flowers blooming or the bees humming along sipping sweet nectar to make honey, or that occasional little turtle sunning himself on a nice swampy log. We had a nice walk and I snapped some shots while holding his sweaty little hand and stooping down beside him to observe the world through the eyes of a three year old-every bug that crawled or flew, every bit of mud or water he took notice of. After he would notice something we would have a very serious talk about it and move on to the next area. I think he has a longer attention span for the crawling and wriggling things than I do, but I was patient with him and listened attentively while he told me things- treasuring each moment and word. I enjoy every moment I spend with him. I try and absorb every bit of it because like the seasons this part of his little life will move so quickly and before we know it he will be all grown up. I only hope that I can spend this kind of time with any other grandchildren that come about. I also hope that when I am very old he will hold my sweaty hand and attentively listen to my stories.
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