Jump!

Jump!

When we get there, we walk across the boardwalk to the island. On the west side of the boardwalk, turtles bask in the setting sun. I did not buy my camera for the purpose of photographing far-away turtles. I chose my camera for the purpose of photographing children. The binoculars are for the turtles. If there are still turtles when my children are grown, they will still look like turtles. We will still see them with binoculars in that future. If there are no turtles when my children are grown, we will look at photographs of turtles that other people have taken. We will say, “Remember when there were turtles in the ponds? They sat on logs in the sun and we looked at them.” A world with turtles is a happier place than a world without turtles.

In the middle of the island there are rocks with moss on them. There are trees. If there is a time in the future when there are no turtles and no people, at least for a while there will be rocks with moss. For a while, there will be trees. Everyone will wish they could be there.

My favorite part of the walk, at least at the moment, is around the back side of the island. There is the edge of the island. There is the still water, the marsh, the hill, the silver steeple of Canton-de-Hatley. There is the sky. There is the moon. The world is everywhere we look.

I tried to take some photos of the kids on this log in mid-September, but the lighting was lousy.
Fortunately, I come here often enough to try, try again.





Β *Β Β *Β Β *Β Β

We went for a short walk in the woods.
First we splashed in some puddles.



Then we walked down the riverβ

βto the tire swing.


Then we crossed the really awkward bridge where all the steps are attached to swinging chains
and there’s a tree that fell on top of it two years ago that one has to duck under.




I guess that was enough!
I think I’d be happy to come here every day for a long, long time.

After some time, other people might require me to go alone.

While Martin and Akiva re-roof the shed,

Iris takes a straw bale down the slope,

behind the house,

into the bunny yard,

and under a bunny.
There is also a bunny under the wagon.
As soon as a new object is added to the yard, the bunnies will hop under it.
It’s not that the rabbits lack spots of shade, it’s simply that they are into investigative hopping.

I took my old cameraβ of the sort that only takes old photosβ on a walk alone into the tall woods.

There I found a circle of children singing and old song and dancing in circles.

When I approached more closely, the children, the circle, and the old camera disappeared.

I found myself as an old woman, alone again, with a new camera and nothing more to photograph.







