We’ve named him Kermit the Elf.
I drove by the building I spent a year and a half in before the pandemic hit. I realize I won’t spend much more time here, as I’ll move and finish my PhD from California. But I had missed this building. Working from home has been isolating at the least. Driving by it at night gave me a peace, a sense of community albeit imagined, like ghosts walking through an abandoned building.
We found this little half tunnel to stand on at the lake. When I stood on it, facing the lake, I felt like Jesus walking across water. The feels was fascinating and unexpected.
I took the photo, here are my two partners in exploration.
It made me smile at its loud size and print.
B found his old mat toys. He sometimes fell asleep under these as a baby. One night he asked to fall asleep here again, as a 3 year old. We carried him to bed after a bit, but it was so sweet to witness.
When I was a kid, I consciously remember how I never wanted to stop playing, stop imagining. I looked around at the adults who looked so bored and thought they had made the wrong choice by not getting on the ground with us kids and imagining they were cats, dogs, dolphins (and everything else!). I had forgotten about that thought for years because, alas, I grew up, into textbooks, responsibilities. But when my son begins playing like I used to, all of a sudden I’m transported. Back to the wonder of childhood imagination.