We went to the town's oldest park yesterday afternoon for a picnic dinner and a hike; the weather superb for the undertaking, overcast and breezy but still warm. We trotted up and down the trails, staring in amazement at the size of the trees, the closest we have to old growth. Deep pockets of sword fern, thick carpets of moss, sky twinkling through the canopy far above. Eyes peeled for woodpeckers, we saw evidence but no birds. I reminded PapaMonkey of the first time we hiked here; he found a tail feather from a redtailed hawk which hangs still on my dresser mirror. Yesterday, though, nothing more exotic than many other families with strollers and dogs... Until! Bursting out of the foliage, a family (herd? flock?) of wild turkeys. So off I go to photograph them, tiptoeing among the poison oak; turns out they're not the least bit interested in posing for paparazzi.
After all is said and done, we arrive back at the bottom where we started, laughing and out of breath, and I think I have again created a summer memory for the kids that they'll revisit as adults...
Then I ask GirlMonkey what her favorite part of the trip was.
"Eating all the Animal cookies," she says.
Down to the River
14 hours ago