Come Sail Away
Tonight when I clocked off work, the sun was shining and Daisy and I went for a walk by our home to "find treasures." Typically this means I end up carrying the random bottlecaps, plastic things, bones and pretty pieces of metal and glass she finds. My pockets and hands always overflow as she continues the quest.
Lately I've noticed my little girl is growing up. Taking big strides. She's a little more selective in what she keeps on our walks. Still lots of bones but less plastic and paper. Pine cones and cattails are still cool. She's also growing less dependent on me. She holds my hand when we start our walk but then drops it as she gets in her own zone. I love watching her and knowing that she's becoming discerning. She's discovering her own passion, her own style, her own grace, her own confidence.
And, if I'm honest, it makes me a little wistful. Time races by and I know that it will be a blink and she'll be favoring things besides walks with Mom. A kite soaring and a balloon deflating inside my chest at once. But mostly soaring. How much I love this little girl who will not be so little for much longer.
I remember this age perfectly from when I was a child, and it was magical and scary and full of visions and questions. There's a soundtrack to this time in my life and it came from a summer night that I snuck out of the house on our family farm. I climbed to the top of the well-shed and watched the stars while my brother had this song blaring out his open bedroom window.
Lately I've noticed my little girl is growing up. Taking big strides. She's a little more selective in what she keeps on our walks. Still lots of bones but less plastic and paper. Pine cones and cattails are still cool. She's also growing less dependent on me. She holds my hand when we start our walk but then drops it as she gets in her own zone. I love watching her and knowing that she's becoming discerning. She's discovering her own passion, her own style, her own grace, her own confidence.
And, if I'm honest, it makes me a little wistful. Time races by and I know that it will be a blink and she'll be favoring things besides walks with Mom. A kite soaring and a balloon deflating inside my chest at once. But mostly soaring. How much I love this little girl who will not be so little for much longer.
I remember this age perfectly from when I was a child, and it was magical and scary and full of visions and questions. There's a soundtrack to this time in my life and it came from a summer night that I snuck out of the house on our family farm. I climbed to the top of the well-shed and watched the stars while my brother had this song blaring out his open bedroom window.
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