Deja-vu and stow-away
Jun. 14th, 2005 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
miekecI don't know how they do it, but there was a turtle on the bank of the Muddy river, digging a hole for her eggs. Almost to the day a year after I saw turtles last June. It looked like a snapping turtle as well, so we only stopped and looked; I definitely did NOT take Karin out of the back-seat. Her tendency to want to pet any and all creatures A runner who had also stopped to look peeked, but said there were no eggs in there (yet). Soon, probably.
This was, of course, in addition to our daily routine of admiring all the geese in this park (the muddy river bike path runs through a wonderful, watery, lusciously green part of the Emerald Necklace). Especially the 15 little goslings that we saw grow from yellow wandering fuzzballs to the now brownish awkward teenagers. Karin loves to count them all, totally oblivious that she's counting the sames ones multiple times, and that for some reason she always skips "vier" [four in Dutch]. But only in Dutch. In English it's always there :) We've even fed the geese families one day; we had stopped to admire them, and there was a very generous father with his 2 boys who gave Karin some of their bread to feed them too. Interactions like that renew my trust in humanity.
Ah, I love spring.
Well, except for the disgustingly icky humid heatwave we're having. 30°C + 95% humidity = me not functional. But even then, I love my morning commute. It's wonderful to be able to show normal things like a park, geese, birds and water to her, talk to her about them, and point out things as we ride. She looks around, says "hi" to anybody and everybody we ride by; she sometimes sings behind me, absorbs the scenery and daily changes, comments on the many cars in sections of our ride, or on the throngs of people we pass when there is a Red Sox game. And this morning she was showing it all to our stow-away: one of her plastic dinosaurs that had made it into the bike somehow, after I had explained to her we can't take her friends with us. To her credit, she held on to it tightly, and did not lose it once. Having to share it at daycare was another story though...
This was, of course, in addition to our daily routine of admiring all the geese in this park (the muddy river bike path runs through a wonderful, watery, lusciously green part of the Emerald Necklace). Especially the 15 little goslings that we saw grow from yellow wandering fuzzballs to the now brownish awkward teenagers. Karin loves to count them all, totally oblivious that she's counting the sames ones multiple times, and that for some reason she always skips "vier" [four in Dutch]. But only in Dutch. In English it's always there :) We've even fed the geese families one day; we had stopped to admire them, and there was a very generous father with his 2 boys who gave Karin some of their bread to feed them too. Interactions like that renew my trust in humanity.
Ah, I love spring.
Well, except for the disgustingly icky humid heatwave we're having. 30°C + 95% humidity = me not functional. But even then, I love my morning commute. It's wonderful to be able to show normal things like a park, geese, birds and water to her, talk to her about them, and point out things as we ride. She looks around, says "hi" to anybody and everybody we ride by; she sometimes sings behind me, absorbs the scenery and daily changes, comments on the many cars in sections of our ride, or on the throngs of people we pass when there is a Red Sox game. And this morning she was showing it all to our stow-away: one of her plastic dinosaurs that had made it into the bike somehow, after I had explained to her we can't take her friends with us. To her credit, she held on to it tightly, and did not lose it once. Having to share it at daycare was another story though...
