Sand

Most days we travel only as far as we can walk.  

Turns out...we can walk pretty far.  

Some days we walk to a little island of sand and playgrounds near where Jon plays hockey.  

Our beach for this summer.

Spectacular concrete fossils are hidden underneath the dunes of the sand pit.  Paleontologist was on my list of top ten occupations when I was little (along with about 50 other things...there were a lot of ties) but I'm not sure Owen grasps the amazingness of this opportunity...though he's definitely taken with using the backhoe to move unlimited sand.

 

We get to this summer oasis via a winding set of trails that cut through the park.  We have to go early - before the pavement bakes and while the deeper forest is still cool and quiet rather than steaming and buzzing -so typically we are the first playground inhabitants.  It's a bit of a sanctuary for an hour or so before other kids come, rough and tumbling...and Owen slows and quiets around them.  But the kids bring toys - and sometimes this is incentive enough to push him past shyness into the realm of socialization...sometimes for long enough to be polite and friendly and actually speaks real words to them.  At least to ask for permission to use their toys or trade for a bit.

Eventually we head back - eating our packed picnic on the trail home.  By the time we return cheeks are flushed, hair is damp and eyes are just slightly vacant in that happy, tired, sandy way that I love so much.