A few months ago, when it was still very cold, Cooper and I went for a drive. I circled through a neighborhood where I had, years before, seen a lovely home and fallen in love with Highland.
Just a few blocks away, we followed a road to its dead end and admired the beautiful deer among the brush that watched us with their big soft eyes.
And we read a sign that announced a park behind all the trees and shrubbery and grass.
The gates were closed and we determined immediately to return when the sun brought warmer weather.
So, a few days ago we went back. We parked in the little dead-end parking area and walked down the narrow path and around the bend, and there before us was a huge - by many acres - park with pavilions, benches, play sets, trails, stretches of lawn, and a whole pond with docks that stretched over its surface. And the pond was stocked with fish. It was no secret garden to be sure, as groups of children cast their bait and mommies took pictures of their darlings toddling around. Teenagers threw frisbees and men
lounged beside the water. It was magical.
Until Maia came screaming that she had lost her shoe between the boards of a dock and now her bejeweled flip flop was floating in the depths. I immediately thought she'd just have to be careful of broken glass and thorns while she finished our jaunt with just one shoe. But there was no need for the worry, because Cooper was on the job in an instant. He reached beneath, and prodded between, and stepped among, and finally brought the flip flop up from the water, dangling from a large stick.
We ended the evening just playing on the old metal set of slides and monkey bars.
It was magical.
No comments:
Post a Comment