While Beth was at voice and violin lessons, Ethan and I took a stroll in the meadow behind our house late this afternoon. I caught a frog for Ethan to see and touch. Later we followed a turkey. It was walking along the same path as us, about fifteen steps ahead (Daddy steps, that is). Eventually, the turkey left the path into the tall grass, which we thought was the end of our fowl adventure. However, further on, the path came right up to the river. As we approached the bank, just a few steps in front of us, the same turkey darted out of the tall grass, got a good running start, and flew across the river into a tree on the other side. (This turkey was alone, which is unusual. It had been on our deck hours earlier and was at the end of our yard just before we went on our stroll.)
We had many other fun little adventures—broad patches of tall grass gone to seed, flowers, lone daisies, moths, butterflies, even stretches of path that were soggy wet (but thankfully not muddy, so wearing quality sandals and carrying Ethan worked well). We fought off the mosquitoes in the deep woods and appreciated their absence when we returned to the open meadow.
Ethan had a wonderful time. He walked himself the entire way, except where it was wet. In the past, we would carry him or pull him in the wagon much of the time. Finally though, he hit a limit. Weary from the journey, Ethan stopped, looked at me, and said, “Home.” He didn’t realize we were already heading home and were half way there. I picked him up so I could show him our destination in the distance: home.