We went on a walk Saturday. Dad and Martha came to town. Our children call them “Oompah” and “Granny Red”. I’ll let you guess who’s who.
Weaving through the woods is a paved trail of a certain width and a docile setting. The boys found their findings and put them in buckets to be brought home and analyzed in the lab. The lab is our garage, which is where many people tend to park their cars. We, on the other hand, host a lab where cardboard paper towel rolls are telescopes and welding is done with masking tape. Fun fact: the same technology is used by our friends at IKEA™ in the design of their highly functional but unsubstantial furniture. You’ll find out about this when you move.
It was on this same trail last week that I saw turkeys with pre-thanksgiving terror in their eyes, baby snakes that were too cute to be stomped on, and deer that stood there as if to say I know you can’t shoot me. Our local deer have tenacious suburban sensibilities and are not deterred by human presence in the city park. Sadly, our Saturday walk showed absolutely zero animals (except for the kids putting chunks of asphalt in their buckets). But not all was lost. We accomplished exactly what we set out to do: take the boys on a walk with Dad and Martha. After not quite a mile we turned around to head back to the cars, making it a not quite two mile round trip. We had a blast. Emily took pictures.
When I was young my Dad and I would wander the paths of Hines Park. Through the years we’d go camping and walk the trails up north, down south, and in many places betwixt. Some were day walks, most were night walks. All were really fun. I’m still a little off kilter until I get into the woods someplace. It’s like going back to my days with the buckets. It’s home.
I have to say that this was a special Saturday walk indeed. I don’t take it for granted, especially since Dad is recovering from the second knee surgery. It was nice to do something again that we’ve done before, this time with a couple of new knees and the next generation of bucket carriers.