My mind is blank on the latest topics of day. Not a single opinion is fighting for voice at the moment, surfing the groove of all things small boy is working serious mojo on calming my busy mind.
I am the sole source of entertainment for my youngest son this week, the ripe apple of his clear hazel eye. Today we hiked a beautiful path, two hours long, crossing tea colored creeks and fields of faded wildflowers. Picked up his favorite lunch and caught a good movie. Karate Kid. He loved it, so did I. Jaden Smith held the leading role, that beautiful boy possesses the same wonderful appeal as his famous daddy.
Tomorrow we’ll kayak on a small, waveless lake north of town. An inviting sliver of deep, shaded stream snakes off the main body, ripe for exploration. I’ve never been in a kayak before, a canoe maybe twice, so it could get interesting. I’m a tad worried that I won’t be able to maneuver the bobbing plastic craft properly, but I expect it will be all good if we end up spinning in silly circles, my son’s fit of giggles more than compensating for my lousy paddling skills. My smallest boy enjoys the absurd, he has a natural funny bone threaded all the way to his core. He’s a glass half-full sort of guy.
Wednesday we’ll head to San Marcos, a short drive south, for another boating adventure. Glass bottom boats and thank God I won’t be steering. A large aquarium and garden trails come with the cool ride. Thursday looks to be a day spent on Lake Travis, boating with friends and diving off their dock.
Water and boats, boats and water. That’s what we do in Austin when the heat hits the scorch. Pale people look odd in this corner of the world, foreign to the eye. The Hill Country is a place more suited to burnished skin, a web of laugh lines made deeper by long days spent on the reflective surface of clear water or walking miles on the endless trails rolling over beautiful limestone hills.
The coffee table has become an evening fort, hiked up at four corners under two dozen of my lesser hardbacks. Padded and draped, pillows blocking the short ends, he’s left an open panorama view of the television, a bagful of banana popsicles already half gone.
The wind’s picked up, blowing out the humidity, leaving a photographer’s sky of beautifully dry, saturated evening light. Cicadas are chirring, three fawns have bedded down under the clutch of oaks by my front door, the tree frogs are beginning their nightly concert and my son is in his fort.
I have the world in my hand.
Deftly done Daphne.
Thank you, sir.
Sounds like a bloody good day!
That all sounds delightful. I’m fairly certain it is such days as you describe that heaven is made of.
Long after you’re gone there will be flowers on your grave because of the special days, when he was special to his Mama.
You might consider a little insurance and stop by The Salt Lick for some of that succulent barbecue brisket.. and a cold beer.
Excellent prose and a wonderful description of a wonderful evening. Let there be life.
YeOldFurt
Lovely slice of a lovely life, Daphne, and thank you….
But you very seriously need to post a picture of the couch fort.
I, for one, promise not to subject it to a critical analysis.
The Salt Lick is a wonderful idea for Friday, Stoney. There’s a fine creek nearby, too.
Julie, I think God waved a strong hand in creating our world. I believe he gave us Heaven made manifest in this life, with the intent and desire that we would see the mind bending, sanctified beauty surrounding all of us in our daily lives.
Tall trees and clear creeks, the song of tree frogs or ocean waves, voices rising together in a bliss of pure chorus or the soft smile gracing your newborn’s face. That’s Heaven. He gave us these treasures so that our souls would sing with the divine, live in accordance with their ultimate purpose, in the here and now.
Death will take care of itself if we’ve lived life well.
I’ll see if I have some battery left in the camera tomorrow morning, DJ.
It’s a pretty awesome fort.
I’d ask for some pictures, but from you, one word evokes a thousand!
Can’t wait to hear tell of the kayaking adventure…
Provided you have any arm strength left for the keyboard after paddling about the lake.
Ah. Life IS good, innit?
All good things.
Really doesn’t sound bad at all…
:0)
Lovely. That evoked images from my own, long ago childhood Daphne.
Damn, I wish I could write as well as you do.
Marcus Aurelius said something about the irregularities in the universe having purpose despite the fact that there was no purpose in putting them there.
He used the analogy of the cracks in the crust of a loaf of bread, while, serving no purpose in terms of the overall loaf, stimulate the appetite and make the loaf more appealing to the eye.
That’s a really loose paraphrase, as I haven’t read him in years.
The purpose of the cracks in the crust of a loaf of bread, aside from letting out the steam that has built up during the baking, is to whet the appetite for the soup that will fill said cracks…or the melting butter….there is no higher purpose for cracked bread crust. Dip and sigh with contentment. Taste the crusty crackling in your mouth, dip and sigh again.
This is beautiful, Daphne.
Thank you!
It turns out that I am excellent at handling a kayak! God, that was fun.
Next time I’ll wear a swimsuit, I had no idea how wet you can get paddling.
For the briefest moment, while I read this, a mildly salacious thought raced through my consciousness, sadly disappearing quickly into oblivion before I had a chance to grab onto it.
Alas, not even its shadow remains.
It’s more beautiful than I remembered…
We ought to observe also that even the things which follow after the things which are produced according to nature contain something pleasing and attractive. For instance, when bread is baked some parts are split at the surface, and these parts which thus open, and have a certain fashion contrary to the purpose of the baker’s art, are beautiful in a manner, and in a peculiar way excite a desire for eating. And again, figs, when they are quite ripe, gape open; and in the ripe olives the very circumstance of their being near to rottenness adds a peculiar beauty to the fruit. And the ears of corn bending down, and the lion’s eyebrows, and the foam which flows from the mouth of wild boars, and many other things- though they are far from being beautiful, if a man should examine them severally- still, because they are consequent upon the things which are formed by nature, help to adorn them, and they please the mind; so that if a man should have a feeling and deeper insight with respect to the things which are produced in the universe, there is hardly one of those which follow by way of consequence which will not seem to him to be in a manner disposed so as to give pleasure.« (III,2)
What teh?!
There’s NUTHIN here to get me worked up.
Guess I’ll mosey somewhere else fer a spell.
http://www.cq.xinhuanet.com/news/2009-11/05/xin_42311060511357811261928.jpg
Okay! NOW you’re talkin.
I hope he doesn’t catch fire from inter-thigh friction.
He’d burn for months.
http://snarkandboobs.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/2007-11-05rosie.jpg
Now we’re GOOD an’ pissed off!
Imagine seeing THAT mug at the bottom of the toilet bowl every morning.
How it got there is anyone’s guess.
or the briefest moment, while I read this, a mildly salacious thought raced through my consciousness, sadly disappearing quickly into oblivion before I had a chance to grab onto it.
Alas, not even its shadow remains.
The shadow of a smile remains Gedaliya
I could have put a bit more polish on that last sentence, G. ;-)
Lance, that was a cruel punishment first thing in the morning. I haven’t had my coffee yet.
Ahh, a Halcyon time for you and your youngest.
Times like these are the bulwark of Old Age’s Nostalgia.
You might take the young man out to Enchanted Rock near Llano and then come home by via Fredericksburg. The Nimitz museum is in Fredericksburg. Hit E-rock in the morning, lunch on the main dome, then do the museum in the heat of the afternoon.
Texas is sounding better and better. We are into “June Gloom” after enduring “Grey May”. I’m trying to remember if the sun comes out in July. Spoiled by life in Hawaii, we find the local ocean uninviting as well with the necessity of a wet suit, sting rays underfoot, and constant onshore winds screwing up the surf.
I haven’t paddled in months, Judy hasn’t gotten wet in a year, and we build kayaks for a living! Sunny SoCal isn’t.
And yes, I had the same flash as Gedaliya – great minds think alike. And Lance should be banned for that first link….
Enjoy this time. You’ll blink and your favorite boy will be packing for college.