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Author Topic: Love in the leaves  (Read 3138 times)

Offline Cindi

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Love in the leaves
« on: December 06, 2006, 10:50:42 am »
One of my nephews (he is 10) called me outside a few weeks ago.  He said that he had something very special to show me.  It was almost dark, and I was in the process of cooking supper.  I knew that I could not leave the kitchen too long, or our supper might have looked a little on the odd side.  So Dallon told me to put on my rubber boots, cause the grass was quite wet.  Which I did.  I asked him if I could just look from the front porch out to what he wanted me to see.  No.  I had to go with him, so I did.  And I am grateful that I make an effort to always see what the kids want me to look at, sometimes, they have fascinating things that they have discovered, and it usually is in the form of a bug, or something a bee is doing, a flower that may look pretty or whatever.  They love to come and have me look.  So I walked out by our pool with Dallon, under the Beech tree I could see an enormous pile of leaves.  I thought, oh no, he's jumping from the tree into the pile of leaves and just wants an adult to see his daring little stunt.  I stood for a moment, he said come on Auntie Cindi, you gotta come closer.  So I did.  When I got a little closer, I noticed that this was just an ordinary pile of leaves, this pile was cultured.  He had made a beautiful heart within a border, it almost looked like a picture frame.  This young man is one of the more sensitive of my nephews, he is  a lover of peace and harmony, loves his animals and my flowers and insects.  He is a special little man.  It is times like that that make me so grateful I have eyes to see, am loved, and a desire to listen to the children, and spend a moment to take the little time from me that they so justly deserve.  Enjoy Dallon's love for his auntie in this picture.  He was ever so pleased when I asked him to take a picture of it with my camera.  He took some good shots.  Great day.  Cindi

There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold.  The Arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold.  The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see, what the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge, I cremated Sam McGee.  Robert Service