Very occasionally you find yourself in a pretty perfect moment.
When you’ve time to stop, have sunshine on your face and all feels well.
One Sunday recently our youngest, Fenn went to spend the day with Emily
and her son, Kip. He loves going to their house.
Emily has always got something ‘up her sleeve’; a wild adventure, pancakes on the fire, weapons, ammunition and den making kits for the woods, paddling in the stream, buckets of biscuits and warm tea for expeditions.
I dropped him there reasonably early for a Sunday, he joined them under a huge fluffy blanket on the sofa and was immediately engrossed in Harry Potter. ‘Bye Mum!’
This particular Sunday was a beautifully sunny day.
Later in the afternoon I arrived back to find them in the most beautiful meadow having been tree climbing and rigged up a rope swing over the stream.
I had received a note from Emily earlier to let me know they’d spent a considerable amount of time boomeranging an old frying pan they’d found up into the branches, howling with laughter. Boys will be boys. They’d stripped down and were bare chested of course. They’d also been down a badger hole on the look for eyes peeping back at them and searching for snakes.
Over the day Emily had acquired another friend and the three kids were now clambering in trees and taking turns to swing over the stream. A woodpecker was calling nearby, the air was still and warm, the grass long and fragrant. Wow, a pretty darn perfect moment. One that you can’t do again, you just can’t replicate.
Being a Sunday, dinner in the oven at home and school the next day we very reluctantly head off home. Fenn was unusually upset having to leave, ‘I don’t want to go home… I want to move house, it’s boring living in Bath, you can’t hunt for newts in Bath, or swing over streams’ etc etc. Full of stories of hunting for newts, he’s now newt obsessed.
A tank is being prepped, research is carried out nightly.
Now I’m not sure you’re allowed to keep newts, but if you are, we’ll be welcoming a newt or two to the family pretty soon I’m sure.
I’ve promised him a return visit. Back to the meadow, the stream, the long grass, the newts and woodpeckers. This time for the day, with a picnic, consisting mainly of biscuits probably.
We’ll have fun, swing in trees, hide in the grass, lay in the sun, search for bugs, snakes, badgers, listen for bird calls, take a bag of stick-lets to build dens, paddle, natter.
But it won’t be the same. He knows that, I know that.
It was a truly lovely Sunday evening. Thank you for having him Emily xxx