Walking

The temperature is supposed to top out in the low-80's today. Our morning walk was beautiful. You babbled happily for almost 40 minutes. I love hearing your voice ebb and flow over my shoulder, cooing and whispering directly into my ear. I asked you to point at things occasionally and you did--tree, car, house, Luxy. You don't have much range of motion from the backpack, however, so you mostly look like you're doing a little "Heil Hilter" salute--or that's what it looks like from the corner of my eye.

We stopped to listen to the wind in the trees. Because it's autumn and the leaves are drier, the trees are suddenly louder and more brittle in their rustling. "Listen," I said, "it's the sound of the wind." But it's not, really. The wind doesn't have a sound of its own; on the other hand, the leaves don't make noise without the wind. So were we listening to the wind or the leaves? And seriously, could I be any more Zen right now?

Anyway, after the wind we checked out some milkweed pods. A group of elder bugs was clinging to a closed pod, all of their little insect arms working the crease, trying to get in. A few of the pods were open so I let you wiggle your fingers into the gossamer fluff.

A half mile behind us, a train was making its way through town so we stopped to listen to the whistle.

I let you pull a red leaf from an oak tree. You dropped it just as quickly.

Then we were home. I read nursery rhymes to you--one about having a sailor for a daddy and another about not beating your donkey but feeding him corn instead. You were still wearing your somewhat atrocious pajamas (lavender, Pooh, white fur collar) when I put you down for your nap.

Now it's an hour and twenty minutes later and I'm not sure what to do--you never sleep for this long. I suppose I will pour coffee from the cold silver percolator and warm it in the microwave. While it's warming I'll move the laundry to the drier and then I'll take my mug, add cream and sugar, settle into the couch, and I will proceed to read exactly two sentences before you--

--wait, I think I hear you now. Scratch the coffee.

Nevertheless: it's a beautiful day. I love you.