I wanted to go through these shoddy cell phone images and edit them a little and post better versions, but part of me still feels torn about photo editing and whether it is cheating. Best argument against that is that it's good if you can more accurately represent what was in front of your eyes and the camera can't always capture the realness of reality. That sounds like psychobabble. Sorry.
So Emilia and I had to take to the park because it was nearly sixty degrees and some girls just have to run when it's like that. She challenged me to a two mile foot race when we were getting our shoes on. We modified that to a quarter mile once we got to the park and we ended in a fairly even tie. We leaf-stomped, skipped, ran, walked, clung to railings and looked over bridges, ran into dad, and Ralph, and dad and Ralph. We tried to spook someone. We saw three deer.
These stones mean, for me, the footfalls of people who walked in the park for a hundred years before me. I see Victorian lace up boots and hear the swish of petticoats. Smell the sun-warm wool of a young man's suit.
Life on the cold stone.
And I didn't look very hard on our walk, but I didn't find a four leafed clover and was disappointed.
The quarry marks on the stone next to the graffito of some kid carving their name. We humans and the need to leave our mark. It makes us beautiful and sad. I'm glad to be an audience to notice the chisel and the carving. I see your mark, fellow humans. I ran my fingers over your work.
Ah this one would benefit from editing. There was a large tree beyond this. It'll probably fall this winter if we have a heavy snow or an early spring ice storm. It may obliterate the bridge we were on. These bits of wood look like they came from where a large bough came down recently. The bough was hauled away, but the mess remained.
Textures. You know how I feel about dem textures.
We had a lovely conversation about this stretch of moss, littered with what could be flowers or leaves or snow flakes. Some held drops of water, but my lowly mobile camera couldn't catch it all. What a pretty, missable thing. And she and I didn't miss a moment of its beauty. This is when I really feel like a good mom.
The curl!
And then the clouds parted and we saw blue skies! Shortly after, a few rays of sun!
And deeper into the woods, we examined some fallen trees. The curls of bark get me every time.
And acorn hats upturned.
These were my gifts this Christmas Eve.
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