The View from Here: we made it to the far side

The view from here is priceless

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Evan and I went exploring in the field.  The field slopes fiercely.  It’s lumpy and bumpy.  There are – or were – no paths.  A wild wonderland for an intrepid boy with an imagination.

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We clambered upwards.  We examined flowers.  We picked some for mummy.

We measured ourselves against the tall grasses.  We made a little den and hid. We jabbered and chattered the whole way through.  Words tumbled out like a torrent over a waterfall.  Every sight, every thought exclaimed over and shared.  We were brave explorers.  We didn’t complain when a nettle caught us unawares.  Time had no place here; we were utterly absorbed in the experience, he and I.

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I say ‘we’ although of course, I did none of these things. But I lived them vicariously.  I merely followed in awe, greedily gathering to my heart every moment of this precious alone time with my eldest grandson.  A small boy in a large field on a sunny day: captured on camera but still more vividly etched on my soul.  The simplest of activities. The most precious of memories.

We made it to the far side, he and I.

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It occurs to me that on this day two months ago B and I had just arrived here.

Look how far we’ve come.

The view from here is priceless.

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