Game trails

When the back part of our lawn is not mowed, the grasses grow long and the dandelions grow high. Their yellow blossoms give way to round clumps of delicate fluff that so eagerly dances and twirls across the wind. Letting Casey lead, we make our own game trails in this wild world of ours.



During times I find myself cringing at the humid fecund world that comes alive during the hot middle months, I look to Casey to remind myself of summer’s magic. I try to see the world through his eyes. Instead of focusing on the tiny bugs that scurry along on their daily errands, I marvel at the heart shaped leaves of the violets; the dark green of the older, established leaves and the lighter daring green of the young leaves that are just discovering their happy shape. Beneath their shade, tiny verdures, barely un-budded, unfurl upwards.

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I see the magic of mud puddles and share his amazement in the sensation of the rough bark on our palms.



I copy his movements as we walk along and he leads me in a childish yoga sequence as we stretch our bodies and explore the world from different angles. Bending into downward dog, the tops of the trees become a world of their own and it seems that you would fall into the blue, blue sky if you were to step off the strong branches.


Coming back upright and into a squat, we twist our bodies from side to side, taking in the world beneath the drooping arms of the weeping cherry tree.  See the bright light, giving way to a darker, cooler, quite space beneath overgrown bushes.


Staying with him I forget to fear things that slither among the grasses, creatures that scurry away at our approach.  I forget my fear of the unknown and instead delight in the wonder of the world.



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