There's something about boys out in the wild.
They will find an adventure ten steps from the parking lot.
This the the top of the secret place.
Big Cuter wondered how I managed on Mt. Lemmon with Amster and her kids on Sunday.
I told him that I was able to creep through the secret place with no problems.
"The secret place?" he wondered.
"You know, there are always secret places," said I.
"Ahhhh, yes, I know," was his reply.
For a moment, I think, he was back on Mt. Tam with his little sister and his mother on an adventure - hunting buffalo and tracking them silently with our Nature Explorer backpacks and our sticks.
The buffalo were everywhere, just as Amsters' kids' imaginary terrors were stalking us this weekend.
Up and over and under we went - or they went and I observed and photographed.
"Will we be on the blog tomorrow? I like to know when I'm on the internet."
That was the permission statement from Mr. 7, maturing more quickly than I'd like.
He's still the kindest boy on the planet, willing to hold and carry and help. He's just more grown up about it all.
The sand across Canyon Rose Lake looked like snow.
The ripples from the fishing lines were mesmerizing.
There was room to dance on the path.
And there was time to contemplate the future on the rocks.
Amster loves those toe-shoes.
There were all manner of fishermen
and picnickers of every ethnicity .
The path was paved, the temperatures at 7,000' were in the 70's and my heart was happy.
I looked out at Elizibeth, far and yet close enough to stay connected, peering into the distance.
That's the thing about kids in nature - there is nothing but imagination between them and the world.
No homework. No chores. No plans to be made or kept.
It's just trees