August 24, 2012

the resting log

When we first found it, we were at the end of a long walk and it seemed like a good spot to stop and rest before heading back up the hill toward home. And so they call it The Resting Log. Since then, we make a beeline for this spot, spending most of our outdoors-in-the-woods time there. We load up a bag- shovels and jars and butterfly nets and books and snack and, of course, knitting - and head down for the afternoon.

They are building a mammoth waterworks at the moment, creating a second stream next to the creek itself. But there are also minnows to catch under the waterfall, and interesting rocks to gather, and caterpillars that seem to be drawn to The Resting Log, trucking across it at a surprisingly speedy pace.

The play, and dig, and get soaking wet. I sit on the log and read or knit or I love that mud and water can still keep them busy for hours. I love that we are, all of us, drawn to this spot. Love to hear the (wee little) waterfall crashing down, to watch the dog swim in the deep(ish) spots until she is exhausted, when she comes to sit on a pile of leaves next to me. Love that, unlike when we are at the house and I feel the constant need to paint or unpack or do, here I just sit. And rest. Perhaps it's an apt name after all.